Editor's Note:
Dear Friend,
With all its perks regarding connection and community, social media sometimes falls into a vicious cycle of hot-takes and internet-shaming.
Controversies great or small, real or imagined, simmer and boil over online. A single tweet or comment can suddenly draw down a storm of righteous online indignation and social-media vigilantism.
The flaws and failings of others are tried in the court of public opinion.
This week’s Torah portion discusses the responsibility of the kohen to declare a person either afflicted or cured of tzaraat, a biblical malady that brought ritual impurity and seclusion.
Why, asked the Rebbe, was only a kohen qualified to declare that a person is afflicted by tzaraat?
One of the kohen’s duties is to bless the Jewish people, to bring peace to others. Only someone whose very essence is love can determine that someone else is lacking.
When we rush to push a person away—even if we feel that we are eminently qualified to judge them—we must stop and look at the source of this conviction. Are we coming from a place of pure love like the kohen?
What’s more, the kohen did not just declare impurity of tzaraat but also brought about its cure. If we see someone that is “on the outside,” it is our job to labor with love to make sure they find their way in.
Mordechai Lightstone
on behalf of the Chabad.org Editorial Team
Wonder Making
Do you want to make miracles? It’s not so hard.
Let’s say you see someone’s faults and you truly want to help—whether it be a friend, a spouse, your child or even your nemesis.
Don’t say a word about what you have found wrong. Instead, find something wondrous about that person, perhaps something that nobody ever mentions. Talk about it—to yourself, and to those who will listen and sympathize.
In very little time, you will see such a new person, you will believe you are a maker of wonders.
Indeed, we all are.
This Week's Features:
Printable Magazine
Jews, Time and Freedom
How Torah liberated humankind from the bondage of fate by Tzvi Freeman
Once upon a time, time was round. Then somehow we straightened it out, put an arrow on the end and took it for a ride. But every schoolchild knows that to flatten a circle you need an infinite calculation of the irrational π. Turns out, when you flatten a circle, something infinite appears.
Now let me tell you how it happened. You see, our ancestors counted their days beginning in the fall. Why the fall? Because, they said, that’s when the cycle of nature began. G‑d set the world spinning on the first day of the autumn month ofTishrei, and it’s been twirling around in a yearly cycle ever since.
Then came the Exodus and a new beginning. That’s when G‑d spoke toMoses and told him, “Moses, I have a mitzvah for you. The very first mitzvah that I will be commanding the children of Israel. From now on, you are to start the year in this month of the spring, the month in which I will redeem you from Egypt.”
So the first day of Tishrei remained the head of all the days of the year, butNissan, in the spring, became the head of all the months of the year.
Sounds simple enough. But there was a slight complication:
“And Moses, you are to count your calendar by the phases of the moon. When the new moon first appears in the sky, that is the beginning of each month.”
Problem is, moon years don’t match solar years—they’re off by about eleven days plus. Yet G‑d provided no further instruction.
“Measuring the years according to the cycle of the moon instead of the cycle of the sun,” wrote Rabbi Avraham ibn Ezra in the 12th century, “is not just a matter of following a different cycle. The Muslims also follow a cycle of the moon, so that 34 lunar years will complete in 33 solar years. But we were also told to keep the first month, with Passover, always in the spring.If so, we are not just to keep a cycle. We are to determine it. If so, we are not just to keep a cycle. We are to determine it.”1
In other words, according to Rabbi ibnEzra, if Moses had asked G‑d how exactly are we to solve this puzzle, G‑d would have replied, “That’s just the point: I’m leaving it up to you.”
So we decided that once in a while we’ll add another month to the year, so as to push Passover back into its place in the spring. When is that once in a while? Whenever we—i.e., the Jewish supreme court, which represents the people—determine.2
All the heavenly court come to the Holy One, blessed be He, and they ask, “When is Rosh Chodesh? When is Yom Kippur?” So He answers them, “Why are you coming to me, when I have already placed this in the hands of the children of Israel? Let us all go to the earthly court and see what they have determined.”3
If that sounds trivial, think of the context: You’re in Ancient Egypt. As in all the rest of that world, you look up to the stars, and they determine your fate. The cycles of nature, the flooding of the Nile, the growth of your crops, the fertility of your womb, all are determined by the predictable movements of the constellations. So it was in Egypt, so too in the civilization of Sumer from which our father Abraham came, so it was for the wise men of India, for the sages of the Tao, the I Ching, for every system of wisdom prior to Torah. Each man is born into his caste, his station and fate in life, all sealed by karma/matta/cosmos since the beginning of time. Even the gods stand beneath that great cycle of being in the grand pyramid of life. The Great Wheel of Life turns and turns, indifferent to human endeavor or aspirations, chanting, “. . . the life of a man is a circle from childhood to childhood, and so it is in everything where power moves.”4 “Whatever was will be and what will be already was, for nothing is new under the sun.”5. And if so, “what advantage could there be to all the striving of man?”6
And now, whammo: Out of the circle and into the pilot’s seat.No longer does the Cycle of Time rule over us. Now we are free. No longer does the Cycle of Time rule over us. Now we are free. Now we are to determine Time.
This is our very first mitzvah, the proto-mitzvah of all others. Not a command to obey like robots, but to take charge of our own world. A command that liberates and empowers. A command to break the chains of fate and hold Destiny itself in our own hands.
Which sheds light on a fascinating nuance of the Hebrew language so easy to overlook: A year in Hebrew is a shanah. A month is a chodesh. Shanahmeans something that repeats itself again and again—a cycle. Chodeshmeans “new.” The sun goes round and round, but the moon renews itself.
Two diametrically opposite descriptions of time: Shanah is time as a cycle, like all the prisons described above. Yet then comes the other description of time as chodesh, as newness, as real change. Time in which we are moving somewhere, where the future holds something the past never had. Time with meaning and purpose to life. Time in the sense of that most powerful of words that has forged modern society into an anomaly of history: Time as Progress.
When He Who Transcends All Time and Space wrested us out of the bonds of Egyptian slavery, toppling its pyramid of social caste and shattering its concept of naturalistic determinism, it was then that freedom first entered the world. If anywhere today human beings strive for a better world, their story begins with that Exodus. Not just because slaves were freed. Not just because the simple serf could cry to the Master of the Universe as his own Father, and the laws of nature would be broken for him. But because humanity was lifted outside and beyond the circle, no longer enslaved to the tyrannical millstone of the gods of Nature, Time and Fate.It was then that sentient life on earth was empowered and told, “Take your destiny in your hands.” It was then that sentient life on earth was empowered and told, “Take your destiny in your hands. Go forward. If this is not a world with which you can make peace, change it, make it so. If you find suffering, banish it. If your karma stinks, get past it. Never be satisfied. Be not the prisoner of fate, but its master.”
“In this world He has betrothed us, but in the world to come He will marry us. Therefore, in this world He has given us the moon. In the world to come He will give us the sun, the stars and all the cycles of nature.”7
We were given a Torah with a box of tools to manage a world, to drive it to its destiny, to reveal its inner meaning for which it was originally made. Until ultimately freedom will break through every cell of this world, and like that mysterious number of π, the circle will be revealed for what it truly is: Infinity concealed.
FOOTNOTES
1.Ibn Ezra, Exodus 12:2.
2.See Mishneh Torah, Hil. Kiddush Hachodesh 2:8: “It is not the sighting of the moon that establishes the new month, but the act of Beit Din sayingmekudash (‘sanctified’).”
3.Yalkut Shimoni, Psalms 81.
4.Attributed to Black Elk.
5.Ecclesiastes 1:9.
6.Ibid. 1:3.
7.Shir Hashirim Rabbah.
PARSHAH
The Eighth Day
Why circumcision? Why was this from the outset not just a mitzvah, one command among others, but the very sign of our covenant with G‑d and His with us? And why on the eighth day? by Rabbi Jonathan Sacks
Our Parshah begins with childbirth and, in the case of a male child, “on the eighth day the flesh of his foreskin shall be circumcised.”1 This became known not just as milah, “circumcision,” but something altogether more theological, brit milah, “the covenant of circumcision.” That is because even before Sinai, almost at the dawn of Jewish history, circumcision became the sign of G‑d’s covenant with Abraham.2
Why circumcision? Why was this from the outset not just a mitzvah, one command among others, but the very sign of our covenant with G‑d and His with us? And why on the eighth day? Last week’s Parshah was called Shemini, “the eighth [day],”3 because it dealt with the inauguration of theMishkan, the Sanctuary, which also took place on the eighth day. Is there a connection between these two quite different events?
The place to begin is a strange midrash recording an encounter between the Roman governor Tyranus Rufus4 and Rabbi Akiva. Rufus began the conversation by asking, “Whose works are better, those of G‑d or of man?” Surprisingly, the rabbi replied, “Those of man.” Rufus responded, “But look at the heavens and the earth. Can a human being make anything like that?” Rabbi Akiva replied that the comparison was unfair. “Creating heaven and earth is clearly beyond human capacity. Give me an example drawn from matters that are within human scope.” Rufus then said, “Why do you practice circumcision?” To this Rabbi Akiva replied, “I knew you would ask that question. That is why I said in advance that the works of man are better than those of G‑d.”
The rabbi then set before the governor ears of grain and cakes. The unprocessed grain is the work of G‑d. The cake is the work of man. Is it not more pleasant to eat cake than raw ears of grain? Rufus then said, “If G‑d really wants us to practise circumcision, why did He not arrange for babies to be born circumcised?” Rabbi Akiva replied, “G‑d gave the commandments toIsrael to refine our character.”5 This is a very odd conversation, but, as we will see, a deeply significant one. To understand it, we have to go back to the beginning of time.
The Torah tells us that for six days G‑d created the universe and on the seventh He rested, declaring it holy. His last creation, on the sixth day, was humanity: the first man and the first woman. According to the sages, Adamand Eve sinned by eating the forbidden fruit already on that day, and were sentenced to exile from the Garden of Eden. However, G‑d delayed the execution of sentence for a day, to allow them to spend Shabbat in the garden. As the day came to a close, the humans were about to be sent out into the world in the darkness of night. G‑d took pity on them and showed them how to make light. That is why we light a special candle at havdalah, not just to mark the end of Shabbat but also to show that we begin the workday week with the light G‑d taught us to make.
The havdalah candle therefore represents the light of the eighth day—which marks the beginning of human creativity. Just as G‑d began the first day of creation with the words “Let there be light,” so at the start of the eighth day He showed humans how they too could make light. Human creativity is thus conceived in Judaism as parallel to Divine creativity,6 and its symbol is the eighth day.
That is why the Mishkan was inaugurated on the eighth day. As Nechama Leibowitz and others have noted, there is an unmistakable parallelism between the language the Torah uses to describe G‑d’s creation of the universe and the Israelites’ creation of the Sanctuary. The Mishkan was a microcosm—a cosmos in miniature. Thus Genesis begins and Exodus ends with stories of creation, the first by G‑d, the second by the Israelites. The eighth day is when we celebrate the human contribution to creation.
That is also why circumcision takes place on the eighth day. All life, we believe, comes from G‑d. Every human being bears His image and likeness. We see each child as G‑d’s gift: “Children are the provision of the L‑rd; the fruit of the womb, His reward.”7 Yet it takes a human act—circumcision—to signal that a male Jewish child has entered the covenant. That is why it takes place on the eighth day, to emphasize that the act that symbolizes entry into the covenant is a human one—just as it was when the Israelites at the foot of Mount Sinai said, “All that the L‑rd has said, we will do and obey.”8
Mutuality and reciprocity mark the special nature of the specific covenant G‑d made, first with Abraham, then with Moses and the Israelites. It is this that differentiates it from the universal covenant G‑d made with Noah and through him with all humanity. That covenant, set out in Genesis 9, involved no human response. Its content was the seven Noahide commands. Its sign was the rainbow. But G‑d asked nothing of Noah, not even his consent. Judaism embodies a unique duality of the universal and the particular. We are all in covenant with G‑d by the mere fact of our humanity. We are bound, all of us, by the basic laws of morality. This is part of what it means to be human.
But to be Jewish is also to be part of a particular covenant of reciprocity with G‑d. G‑d calls. We respond. G‑d begins the work and calls on us to complete it. That is what the act of circumcision represents. G‑d did not cause male children to be born circumcised, said Rabbi Akiva, because He deliberately left this act, this sign of the covenant, to us.
Now we begin to understand the full depth of the conversation between Rabbi Akiva and the Roman governor Tineius Rufus. For the Romans, the Greeks and the ancient world generally, the gods were to be found in nature: the sun, the sea, the sky, the earth and its seasons, the fields and their fertility. In Judaism, G‑d is beyond nature, and His covenant with us takes us beyond nature also. So for us, not everything natural is good. War is natural. Conflict is natural. The violent competition to be the alpha male is natural. Jews—and others inspired by the G‑d of Abraham—believe, as Katharine Hepburn said to Humphrey Bogart in The African Queen, that “Nature, Mr Allnut, is what we are put in this world to rise above.”
The Romans found circumcision strange because it was unnatural. Why not celebrate the human body as G‑d made it? G‑d, said Rabbi Akiva to the Roman governor, values culture, not just nature; the work of humans, not just the work of G‑d. It was this cluster of ideas—that G‑d left creation unfinished so that we could become partners in its completion; that by responding to G‑d’s commands we become refined; that G‑d delights in our creativity, and helped us along the way by teaching the first humans how to make light—that made Judaism unique in its faith in G‑d’s faith in humankind. All of this is implicit in the idea of the eighth day as the day on which G‑d sent humans out into the world to become His partners in the work of creation.
Why is this symbolized in the act of circumcision? Because if Darwin was right, then the most primal of all human instincts is to seek to pass on one’s genes to the next generation. That is the strongest force of nature within us. Circumcision symbolizes the idea that there is something higher than nature. Passing on our genes to the next generation should not simply be a blind instinct, a Darwinian drive. The Abrahamic covenant was based on sexual fidelity, the sanctity of marriage, and the consecration of the love that brings new life into the world.9 It is a rejection of the ethic of the alpha male.
G‑d created physical nature: the nature charted by science. But He asks us to be co-creators, with Him, of human nature. As R. Avraham Mordechai Alter of Ger said. “When G‑d said, ‘Let us make man in our image,’ to whom was He speaking? To man himself. G‑d said to man, Let us—you and I—make man together.”10 The symbol of that co-creation is the eighth day, the day He helps us begin to create a world of light and love.
FOOTNOTES
1.Leviticus 12:3.
2.Genesis 17:1–14.
3.Leviticus 9:1.
4.Quintus Tineius Rufus, Roman governor of Judea during the Bar Kochba uprising. He is known in the rabbinic literature as “the wicked.” His hostility to Jewish practice was one of the factors that provoked the uprising.
5.Tanchuma, Tazria 5.
6.This is also signaled in the havdalahprayer, which mentions five havdalot, “distinctions,” between sacred and profane, light and darkness, Israel and the nations, Shabbat and the weekdays, and the final “who distinguishes between sacred and profane.” This parallels Genesis 1, in which the verb lehavdil—to distinguish, separate—appears five times.
7.Psalms 127:3.
8.Exodus 24:7.
9.That, as I have pointed out elsewhere, is why Genesis does not criticize idolatry but does implicitly criticize, on at least six occasions, the lack of a sexual ethic among the people with whom the patriarchs and their families come into contact.
10.R. Avraham Mordechai Alter of Ger,Likkutei Yehudah.
Learn Tazria In Depth
A condensation of the weekly Torah portion alongside select commentaries culled from the Midrash, Talmud, Chassidic masters, and the broad corpus of Jewish scholarship.
A woman who shall seed and give birth to a male child shall be tamei seven days; as in the days of her menstrual period shall she be “impure.”
On the eighth day, the flesh of his foreskin shall becircumcised.
She shall then continue in the blood of her purifying for thirty-three days: she shall touch no holy thing, nor come into the Sanctuary, until the days of her purifying are fulfilled.
The birth of a daughter renders her mother ritually impure for fourteen days, followed by sixty-six days of “pure blood” (ordinarily a discharge of blood renders a woman ritually impure, but in these days it does not).
At the conclusion of these periods—a total of forty days for the birth of a boy and eighty days for the birth of a girl—the mother brings two offerings: a lamb for an ascending offering, and a pigeon or turtledove for asin offering. If she is poor and cannot afford a lamb, she brings a bird instead.
The Laws of Tzaraat
A person to whom shall occur in the skin of his flesh a se’eit, sapachat or baheret (patches of varying degrees of whiteness), and it be on the skin of his flesh the plague of tzaraat (“leprosy”)—he shall be brought to Aaron the priest, or to one of his sons the priests.
The priest shall see the plague on the skin of his flesh: if the hair in the plague has turned white, and the plague is deeper in appearance than the skin of his flesh, it is a plague of tzaraat, and the priest shall see it and pronounce him tamei.
If, however, the white patch “is not deeper in appearance than the skin, and the hair did not turn white,” the priest should order the afflicted person to be quarantined for seven days. If at the end of the seven days the white patch has spread, the person is pronounced ritually impure; if it has not, the afflicted person is sequestered for an additional seven days.
The priest shall see him again on the seventh day. And, behold, if the plague is somewhat dimmer, and the plague did not spread in the skin, the priest shall pronounce him pure—it is just a scab. He shall then wash his clothes and be pure.
But if the scab spread in the skin . . . then the priest shall pronounce him unclean; it is tzaraat.
However,
If the tzaraat sprouts on the skin, and the tzaraatcovers all the skin of the one who has the plague from his head to his foot, as far as the priest can see . . . it is all turned white: he is pure.
A third sign of tzaraat (in addition to hairs on the afflicted area having turned white, or the white patch spreading following the quarantine) is the appearance of “live” (i.e., healthy) flesh inside the afflicted area.
Patches appearing on the hair-covered parts of the head or face are rendered impure by yellow, rather than white, hairs. Different rules apply to patches appearing on healed wounds or burns.
The Leper
The tzarua in whom the plague is, his clothes shall be torn, and the hair of his head shall grow long, and he shall put a covering upon his upper lip, and call out: “Unclean! Unclean!”
All the days during which the plague shall be in him, he shall be impure; he is tamei. He shall dwellalone; outside the camp shall his habitation be.
Such is his condition until he is healed of his affliction and undergoes the purification process to be described in the next Parshah, Metzora.
The Contaminated Garment
Garments, too, can be afflicted with tzaraat:
And the garment in which there is the plague oftzaraat, whether it is a woolen garment or a linen garment, or in the warp or the woof . . . or in a leather garment, or in anything made of leather . . .
If the plague is greenish or reddish in the garment . . . it is a plague of tzaraat, and shall be shown to the priest.
The priest shall look at the plague, and quarantine [the object that has] the plague for seven days. . . . If the plague spreads . . . he shall burn that garment . . . for it is a malignant tzaraat; it shall be burnt in fire . . .
But if the priest looks, and behold, the plague is somewhat dimmer after it was washed, then he shall tear it out of the garment. . . . [If it does not return, and] the plague departs from it, then it shall be washed a second time and shall be ritually pure.
This is the law of the plague of tzaraat in a garment of wool or linen, or in the warp or the woof, or anything of leather, to pronounce it tahor(ritually pure), or to pronounce it tamei (ritually impure).
Rabbi Simlai said: Just as man’s creation was after that of cattle, beasts and birds, so too the laws concerning his [ritual impurity and purity] come after those concerning [the impurity and purity of] cattle, beasts and birds. Thus it is what is written (Leviticus 11:46–47), “This is the law of the beasts and of the birds and of every living creature . . . to differentiate between the impure and the pure”; and immediately thereafter, “A woman who shall seed . . .”
Why was man created last among the creations? So that if he is not meritorious, we say to him: “A gnat preceded you, a snail preceded you.”
(Midrash Rabbah; Rashi)
A woman who shall seed and give birth to a male child (Leviticus 12:2)
If the woman gives seed first, she gives birth to a male; if the man gives seed first, she gives birth to a female.
(Talmud, Niddah 31a)
To understand this concept as it applies to the service of G‑d:
It is known that the community of Israel is called the “woman” and G‑d is called the “man,” as it is written: “On that day, you shall call Me: ‘Husband’” (Hosea 2:18). So just as in the case of man and woman, when “the woman seeds first she give birth to a male,” so is it, by way of analogy, in the relationship between the community of Israel and G‑d. When the “woman”—the community of Israel—“seeds first,” meaning that there is an arousal from below which evokes an arousal from above, rather than the other way around [i.e., the person is aroused to come close to G‑d from his or her own initiative, without requiring a Divine intervention in their lives to rouse them], then the love that is born from this is a “male” offspring--an intense and enduring love.
(Torah Ohr)
more
A woman who shall seed (12:2)
There are three partners in man: G‑d, his father and his mother. His father supplies the white seed, out of which are formed the child’s bones, sinews and nails, the brain in his head and the white in his eye. His mother supplies the red seed, out of which is formed his skin, flesh, hair and blood, and the black of his eye. And G‑d gives him spirit and breath, beauty of features, eyesight, the power of hearing, the ability to speak and to walk, understanding and discernment. When his time comes to depart from the world, G‑d takes away His part, and leaves the parts of his father and his mother with them.
(Talmud, Niddah 31a)
What is the form of the embryo? At the beginning of its formation it is like the [species of locust called]rashon; its two eyes resemble two fly-drippings, likewise its two nostrils and two ears; its two arms are like two threads of crimson silk, its mouth is like a barley grain, its trunk like a lentil, whilst the rest of its limbs are pressed together like a formless object, and it is with regard to this that the Psalmist said, “Your eyes have seen my unformed substance” (Psalms 139:16).
How does the embryo lie in its mother’s womb? It is folded up and lying like a writing tablet. Its head lies between its knees, its two hands rest on its temples, and its two heels on its two buttocks. Its mouth is closed, but its navel is open. Its food is that which its mother eats, its drink is that which its mother drinks, and it does not discharge excrement, lest it should kill its mother. When it comes forth into the open world, what had been closed is opened, and what had been open is closed.
(Midrash Rabbah)
Come and see the contrast between the power of the Holy One, blessed be He, and that of mortal man. A man might put his things in a sealed purse whose opening is turned upwards, and yet it is doubtful whether they would be preserved or not; whereas the Holy One, blessed be He, fashions the embryo in a woman’s womb that is not sealed and whose opening is turned downwards, and yet it is preserved.
(Talmud, Niddah 31a)
On the eighth day, the flesh of his foreskin shall be circumcised (12:3)
Isaac and Ishmael were engaged in a controversy. Said Ishmael to Isaac: “I am more beloved to G‑d than you, since I was circumcised at the age of thirteen, but you were circumcised as a baby and could not refuse.” Isaac retorted: “All that you gave up to G‑d was three drops of blood. But lo, I am now thirty-seven years old, yet if G‑d desired of me that I be slaughtered, I would not refuse.”
(Midrash Rabbah)
Jewishness is not a matter of historical consciousness, outlook, ethics, or even behavior; it is a state of being. This is the deeper significance of the debate between Ishmael and Isaac. When the Jew is circumcised on the eighth day of life, he is completely unaware of the significance of what has occurred. But this “non-experience” is precisely what circumcision means. With circumcision the Jew says: I define my relationship with G‑d not by what I think, feel or do, but by the fact of my Jewishness—a fact which applies equally to an infant of eight days and a sage of eighty years.
(The Lubavitcher Rebbe)
On the eighth day, the flesh of his foreskin shall be circumcised (12:3)
A Jew is in essence “circumcised” even if, for whatever reason, his physical foreskin has not yet been removed. Thus the verse says, “On the eighth day the flesh of his foreskin shall be circumcised”—the flesh need to be circumcised, but spiritually the Jew is always “circumcised.”
(Alshich)
On the eighth day, the flesh of his foreskin shall be circumcised (12:3)
Said Rabbi Yitzchak: The law of the man and the law of the beast are equal. The law of man is that “on the eighth day he shall be circumcised”; and the law of the beast is “from the eighth day onward it shall be accepted as a fire offering to G‑d” (Leviticus 22:27).
(Midrash Rabbah)
The number seven represents the natural, and the number eight represents the holy. This is why circumcision on the eighth day takes precedence over Shabbat, the seventh day.
(Keli Yakar)
more
And when the days of her purifying are fulfilled for a son or for a daughter, she shall bring . . . a sin offering (12:6)
Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai was asked by his disciples: Why did the Torah ordain that a woman after childbirth should bring a sin offering? He replied: When she kneels in labor, she swears impetuously that she will have no intercourse with her husband. The Torah therefore ordained that she should bring a sin offering [to atone for her false oath].
(Talmud, Niddah 31a)
A person to whom shall occur in the skin of his flesh . . . the plague of tzaraat (13:2)
The plague of tzaraat comes only as punishment for lashon hara (evil talk).
(Midrash Rabbah; Talmud; Rashi)
Why is the metzora different from all other ritually impure persons in that the Torah said, “He shall dwell alone; outside the camp shall his habitation be”? With his gossip and slander, he separated a husband from his wife, a man from his neighbor; therefore said the Torah: “He shall dwell alone.”
(Talmud, Erachin 16b)
The Psalmist compares slanderous talk to “sharp arrows of the warrior, coals of broom” (Psalms 120:4). All other weapons strike at close quarters, while the arrow strikes from a distance. So is it with slander: it is spoken in Rome and kills in Syria. All other coals, when extinguished, are extinguished without and within; but coals of broom are still burning within when they are extinguished without. So is it with words of slander: even after it seems that their effects have been put out, they continue to smolder within those who heard them. It once happened that a broom tree was set on fire and it burned eighteen months—winter, summer and winter.
(Midrash Rabbah)
Evil talk is like an arrow. A person who unsheathes a sword can regret his intention and return it to its sheath. But the arrow cannot be retrieved.
(Midrash Tehillim)
To what may the tongue be compared? To a dog tied with an iron chain and locked in a room within a room within a room, yet when he barks the entire populace is terrified of him. Imagine if he were loose outside! So the tongue: it is secured behind the teeth and behind the lips, yet it does no end of damage. Imagine if it were outside!
(Yalkut Shimoni)
Evil talk kills three people: the speaker, the listener, and the one who is spoken of.
(Talmud, Erachin 15a)
The speaker obviously commits a grave sin by speaking negatively of his fellow. The listener, too, is a partner to this evil. But why is the one who is spoken of affected by their deed? Are his negative traits worsened by the fact that they are spoken of?
Indeed they are. A person may possess an evil trait or tendency, but his quintessential goodness, intrinsic to every soul, strives to control it, conquer it, and ultimately eradicate its negative expressions and redirect it as a positive force. But when this evil is spoken of, it is made that much more manifest and real. By speaking negatively of the person’s trait or deed, the evil speakers are in effect defining it as such; with their words, they grant substance and validity to its negative potential.
But the same applies in the reverse: speaking favorably of another, accentuating his or her positive side, will aid him to realize himself in the manner that you have defined him.
(The Lubavitcher Rebbe)
A man once came to see Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak of Lubavitch, and proceeded to portray himself as a villain of the worst sort. After describing at length his moral and spiritual deficiencies, he begged the rebbe to help him overcome his evil character.
“Surely,” said the rebbe, “you know how grave is the sin of lashon hara, speaking evilly of a human being. Nowhere, to my knowledge, does it say that it is permissible to speak lashon hara about oneself.”
more
A person to whom shall occur in the skin of his flesh . . . (13:2)
Our sages say that the occurrence of tzaraat was confined to biblical times, implying that later generations are not of the spiritual caliber that allows for this supra-natural affliction.
The reason for this can be understood from the opening words of the Torah’s description of themetzora. “Shall occur” implies a happenstance, something out of character; “in the skin of his flesh” likewise indicates that the blemish is only superficial, affecting only the most external layer of the person. In other words, we are speaking of one whose inner being is free of imperfection, and in whom any “blemish” or malady exists only on the outside.
Thus the Talmud (Sanhedrin 98b) describes Moshiach as a metzora, signifying that the messianic age is a time in which the evils which have infested the world and mankind rise to the surface, so that they can be decisively overcome and cured.
(The Lubavitcher Rebbe)
Se’eit, or sapachat, or baheret (13:2)
The hues of the plague of tzaraat are two that are four [i.e., two categories—se’eit and baheret, each of which has a sapachat, or subcategory). Baheret(“bright”) is a bright white, like snow; its subcategory is like the lime of the Sanctuary. Se’eitis like the membrane of an egg; its subcategory is like white wool—this is the opinion of Rabbi Meir. The [other] sages say: Se’eit is like white wool; its subcategory is like the membrane of an egg.
(Talmud, Negaim 1:1)
The priest shall look on the plague . . . if the hair in the plague is turned white (13:3)
There was once a kohen who could not earn a living, and decided to leave the Land of Israel to seek a livelihood. He said to his wife: Since people come to me to show me their plagues, let me teach you how to diagnose tzaraat. If you see that the hair in the afflicted area has died because its canal has dried up, then know that the person is afflicted. Because for each and every hair G‑d created its own canal from which to drink; if this canal dries out, the hair dries out.
Said his wife to him: If G‑d created a separate canal for each hair to nourish it, how much more so you, who are a human being, and whose children depend on you for nourishment—certainly G‑d will provide for you! And she did not allow him to depart from the Holy Land.
(Midrash Tanchuma)
If the hair in the plague is turned white (13:3)
It was debated in the academy of heaven: If the white patch precedes the white hair, it is impure; if the white hair precedes the white patch, it is pure; but what if there is doubt (as to which came first)?
The Holy One, Blessed be He, said: “It is pure.”
The entire academy of heaven said: “It is impure.”
Said they: “Who shall decide it for us? Rabbah bar Nachmeini.” For Rabbah bar Nachmeini had declared: “I am singular in the laws of tzaraat. . . .” They dispatched a messenger [to bring him to heaven]. . . . Said [Rabbah]: “Tahor, tahor (Pure, pure).”
(Talmud, Bava Metzia 86a)
more
The Torah sections of Tazria (Leviticus 12–13) and Metzora(Leviticus 14–15) discuss the laws of tzaraat, a spiritual illness. Its identifying mark is a white patch (or patches) appearing on the skin of a person, or a dark green or dark pink patch (or patches) on a cloth or leather garment or on the walls of a home.
Not every such patch indicatestzaraat. There are several secondary symptoms that determine whether the person (or house or garment) should be declared tamei (impure). In the human body, one of the signs of tzaraat is if the white patch subsequently causes (at least) two hairs in its area to turn white.
Regarding this law, there is a remarkable passage in the Talmud that recounts a debate taking place in the Academy of Heaven:
It was debated in the Academy of Heaven: If the white patch precedes the white hair, it is impure; if the white hair precedes the white patch, it is pure; but what if there is doubt (as to which came first)?
The Holy One, Blessed be He, said: It is pure.
The entire Academy of Heaven said: It is impure.
Said they: Who shall decide it for us? Rabbah bar Nachmeini. For Rabbah bar Nachmeini had declared: I am singular[ly knowledgeable] in the laws of tzaraat . . . They dispatched a messenger [to bring him to heaven] . . . Said [Rabbah]: Tahor! Tahor! (Pure, pure!). (Talmud, Bava Metzia 86a)
Flight From Self
To understand the meaning of this debate between the Holy One and the Academy of Heaven, and why a mortal human being was called upon to decide between them, we must first understand the nature of the tzaraatdisease in general, and the significance of the white patch and the white hair in particular.
Chassidic teaching explains that the human soul is driven by two contrary forces: the drive to run or escape (ratzo), and the drive to settle (shov). Every time we are overcome by excitement, love, ambition or yearning, we are running, escaping the self to reach for something greater, more beautiful and perfect than it. Whenever we experience awe, humility, devotion or commitment, we are settling—affirming our connection to our existence, our place in the world and our mission in life. Ratzo drives us to climb a mountain,shov to build a home; ratzo to pray, shov to do a mitzvah.
In a spiritually healthy soul, the will vacillates between ratzo and shov like the rise and fall of a well-balanced pendulum, or the contraction and expansion of a smoothly beating heart. The constraints of our place in the world, the finiteness of our nature and body, the boundaries of our very being—these impel us to escape them, to strive for the unbounded and the infinite. But our very escape brings us to a place from which we better appreciate the beauty and necessity of our existence. Thus the ratzo peaks and provokes a counteraction of shov, a return to oneself and one’s place in the world.
Tzaraat is a condition in which this crucial balance is disrupted. The pendulum of the soul ascends in its ratzo arc, but fails to swing back in shov. The will escapes the self and fails to return, leaving behind a vacuum in which all sorts of undesirable elements can now take root, like weeds in an abandoned garden.
This is symbolized by the white patches and the white hairs that are the symptoms of tzaraat. A patch of white skin indicates that life and vitality have departed from (this part of) the body. Still, a white patch alone does not mean that the will’s failure to settle has resulted in any negative developments in the character and behavior of the person. But when we see white hairs sprouting in the white patch—when we see dead things feeding on this dead place—we have a full-blown case of tzaraat.
On the other hand, the existence of white hairs, in and of themselves, do not indicate tzaraat. These might represent the ordinary baggage that we lug through life, the run-of-the mill negative traits and experiences that actually have the positive function of challenging us and provoking our finest talents and most potent energies. It is only when the white hairs are caused by the white patch that something serious is afoot. Such a condition indicates that the person has run away with his escapist impulses so high and so far that he has completely abandoned his commitments to life and productivity, leaving behind a hollow and lifeless self that is a breeding ground for what is worst in human nature.
Hence the law that white hairs are a symptom of tzaraat only when the white patch precedes the white hair, indicating that this dead growth is the result of a certain area of the person’s life having been drained of its vitality.
Two Visions of Man
What is the root cause of tzaraat? Ratzo is the escape from self, while shov is the return to self. It would therefore seem that tzaraat—ratzo without shov—derives from excessive selflessness.
In truth, however, the very opposite is the case. Ratzo is what the soul desires to do, while shov is what the soul is committed to do. Escapist behavior is the ultimate self-indulgence, while settling down is the ultimate submission. Tzaraat, then, derives from a lack of humility, from the failure to yield one’s own will to the will of one’s Creator.
This explains the aforementioned debate between the Holy One and the Academy of Heaven. The Kabbalists speak of two types of divine energy that nourish our existence: a divine light that “fills the worlds,” entering within each creature to relate to its individual character; and a divine light that “encompasses the worlds”—a transcendent energy to which we can relate only as something mystical or spiritual—something that is outside of ourselves.
Of course, the divine essence is neither “filling” nor “encompassing.” Ultimately, G‑d’s relationship with our existence cannot be defined as internal or external—it is neither and both, for the divine reality is beyond such distinctions and characterizations. But G‑d desired to relate to us in a manner that is consistent with our reality. In our experience, there are things that are internal—things that we can understand and empathize with—and things that are encompassing, meaning that they are beyond the parameters of our understanding. So He, too, relates to us via these two channels, making Himself available to us via rational and apprehensible media (e.g., the laws of nature), as well as through mystical and spiritual vectors.
There are numerous differences between these two modes of divine energy and their effects upon us, discussed at length in the works of Kabbalah andChassidism. One basic difference is that the divine light that “fills the worlds” gives credence to our sense of reality and selfhood; while from the perspective of the “encompassing” light, which transcends the parameters of our existence, our reality has no true validity, and our sense of self is little more than an illusion.
The “Academy of Heaven” is an allusion to the filling light, while “the Holy One” (kedushah, holiness, means “transcendence”) connotes the “encompassing” light of G‑d. So regarding the case in which there is doubt as to whether the white hair came before or after the white patch, the “Academy of Heaven” is inclined to declare this a case of tzaraat. For this is the divine perspective on man that recognizes man’s selfishness. If tzaraat is a possibility, we must suspect that it has indeed occurred.
“The Holy One,” however, sees man as an essentially selfless being. From the standpoint of the “encompassing” light, tzaraat is an anomaly. If there is clear and conclusive evidence that a person has indulged his escapist desires to such an extreme, the laws of tzaraat apply. But where there is doubt, this divine perspective is inclined to declare him pure.
The Verdict
Who might decide between these two divine visions? Only one who is in touch with the overriding vision, with the singular truth that transcends both the “filling” and the “encompassing” modes of divine relationship with reality.
Rabbah bar Nachmeini was “singular in the laws of tzaraat.” He was a human being, but a human being who had so thoroughly devoted himself to G‑d’s Torah that he had uncovered its singular core—uncovered the divine vision of reality as it relates to the very essence of G‑d rather than to either the “filling” or the “encompassing” elements of His light.
When Rabbah bar Nachmeini pondered the laws of human selfishness and selflessness, he saw man as G‑d Himself sees him: as a creation utterly devoted to the will of its Creator. A creation who, even if touched by the possibility of a shov-deficiency malady, is invariably declared: Pure! Pure!
Spiritual Grandparenting
"Children's children are the crown of a man." As someone who has lived, loved and learned, what is our obligation to our family and to ourselves? by Frumma Rosenberg-Gottlieb
Watch (25:29)
Jews, Time and Freedom
How Torah liberated humankind from the bondage of fate by Tzvi Freeman
Once upon a time, time was round. Then somehow we straightened it out, put an arrow on the end and took it for a ride. But every schoolchild knows that to flatten a circle you need an infinite calculation of the irrational π. Turns out, when you flatten a circle, something infinite appears.
Now let me tell you how it happened. You see, our ancestors counted their days beginning in the fall. Why the fall? Because, they said, that’s when the cycle of nature began. G‑d set the world spinning on the first day of the autumn month ofTishrei, and it’s been twirling around in a yearly cycle ever since.
Then came the Exodus and a new beginning. That’s when G‑d spoke toMoses and told him, “Moses, I have a mitzvah for you. The very first mitzvah that I will be commanding the children of Israel. From now on, you are to start the year in this month of the spring, the month in which I will redeem you from Egypt.”
So the first day of Tishrei remained the head of all the days of the year, butNissan, in the spring, became the head of all the months of the year.
Sounds simple enough. But there was a slight complication:
“And Moses, you are to count your calendar by the phases of the moon. When the new moon first appears in the sky, that is the beginning of each month.”
Problem is, moon years don’t match solar years—they’re off by about eleven days plus. Yet G‑d provided no further instruction.
“Measuring the years according to the cycle of the moon instead of the cycle of the sun,” wrote Rabbi Avraham ibn Ezra in the 12th century, “is not just a matter of following a different cycle. The Muslims also follow a cycle of the moon, so that 34 lunar years will complete in 33 solar years. But we were also told to keep the first month, with Passover, always in the spring.If so, we are not just to keep a cycle. We are to determine it. If so, we are not just to keep a cycle. We are to determine it.”1
In other words, according to Rabbi ibnEzra, if Moses had asked G‑d how exactly are we to solve this puzzle, G‑d would have replied, “That’s just the point: I’m leaving it up to you.”
So we decided that once in a while we’ll add another month to the year, so as to push Passover back into its place in the spring. When is that once in a while? Whenever we—i.e., the Jewish supreme court, which represents the people—determine.2
All the heavenly court come to the Holy One, blessed be He, and they ask, “When is Rosh Chodesh? When is Yom Kippur?” So He answers them, “Why are you coming to me, when I have already placed this in the hands of the children of Israel? Let us all go to the earthly court and see what they have determined.”3
If that sounds trivial, think of the context: You’re in Ancient Egypt. As in all the rest of that world, you look up to the stars, and they determine your fate. The cycles of nature, the flooding of the Nile, the growth of your crops, the fertility of your womb, all are determined by the predictable movements of the constellations. So it was in Egypt, so too in the civilization of Sumer from which our father Abraham came, so it was for the wise men of India, for the sages of the Tao, the I Ching, for every system of wisdom prior to Torah. Each man is born into his caste, his station and fate in life, all sealed by karma/matta/cosmos since the beginning of time. Even the gods stand beneath that great cycle of being in the grand pyramid of life. The Great Wheel of Life turns and turns, indifferent to human endeavor or aspirations, chanting, “. . . the life of a man is a circle from childhood to childhood, and so it is in everything where power moves.”4 “Whatever was will be and what will be already was, for nothing is new under the sun.”5. And if so, “what advantage could there be to all the striving of man?”6
And now, whammo: Out of the circle and into the pilot’s seat.No longer does the Cycle of Time rule over us. Now we are free. No longer does the Cycle of Time rule over us. Now we are free. Now we are to determine Time.
This is our very first mitzvah, the proto-mitzvah of all others. Not a command to obey like robots, but to take charge of our own world. A command that liberates and empowers. A command to break the chains of fate and hold Destiny itself in our own hands.
Which sheds light on a fascinating nuance of the Hebrew language so easy to overlook: A year in Hebrew is a shanah. A month is a chodesh. Shanahmeans something that repeats itself again and again—a cycle. Chodeshmeans “new.” The sun goes round and round, but the moon renews itself.
Two diametrically opposite descriptions of time: Shanah is time as a cycle, like all the prisons described above. Yet then comes the other description of time as chodesh, as newness, as real change. Time in which we are moving somewhere, where the future holds something the past never had. Time with meaning and purpose to life. Time in the sense of that most powerful of words that has forged modern society into an anomaly of history: Time as Progress.
When He Who Transcends All Time and Space wrested us out of the bonds of Egyptian slavery, toppling its pyramid of social caste and shattering its concept of naturalistic determinism, it was then that freedom first entered the world. If anywhere today human beings strive for a better world, their story begins with that Exodus. Not just because slaves were freed. Not just because the simple serf could cry to the Master of the Universe as his own Father, and the laws of nature would be broken for him. But because humanity was lifted outside and beyond the circle, no longer enslaved to the tyrannical millstone of the gods of Nature, Time and Fate.It was then that sentient life on earth was empowered and told, “Take your destiny in your hands.” It was then that sentient life on earth was empowered and told, “Take your destiny in your hands. Go forward. If this is not a world with which you can make peace, change it, make it so. If you find suffering, banish it. If your karma stinks, get past it. Never be satisfied. Be not the prisoner of fate, but its master.”
“In this world He has betrothed us, but in the world to come He will marry us. Therefore, in this world He has given us the moon. In the world to come He will give us the sun, the stars and all the cycles of nature.”7
We were given a Torah with a box of tools to manage a world, to drive it to its destiny, to reveal its inner meaning for which it was originally made. Until ultimately freedom will break through every cell of this world, and like that mysterious number of π, the circle will be revealed for what it truly is: Infinity concealed.
FOOTNOTES
1.Ibn Ezra, Exodus 12:2.
2.See Mishneh Torah, Hil. Kiddush Hachodesh 2:8: “It is not the sighting of the moon that establishes the new month, but the act of Beit Din sayingmekudash (‘sanctified’).”
3.Yalkut Shimoni, Psalms 81.
4.Attributed to Black Elk.
5.Ecclesiastes 1:9.
6.Ibid. 1:3.
7.Shir Hashirim Rabbah.
PARSHAH
The Eighth Day
Why circumcision? Why was this from the outset not just a mitzvah, one command among others, but the very sign of our covenant with G‑d and His with us? And why on the eighth day? by Rabbi Jonathan Sacks
Our Parshah begins with childbirth and, in the case of a male child, “on the eighth day the flesh of his foreskin shall be circumcised.”1 This became known not just as milah, “circumcision,” but something altogether more theological, brit milah, “the covenant of circumcision.” That is because even before Sinai, almost at the dawn of Jewish history, circumcision became the sign of G‑d’s covenant with Abraham.2Why circumcision? Why was this from the outset not just a mitzvah, one command among others, but the very sign of our covenant with G‑d and His with us? And why on the eighth day? Last week’s Parshah was called Shemini, “the eighth [day],”3 because it dealt with the inauguration of theMishkan, the Sanctuary, which also took place on the eighth day. Is there a connection between these two quite different events?
The place to begin is a strange midrash recording an encounter between the Roman governor Tyranus Rufus4 and Rabbi Akiva. Rufus began the conversation by asking, “Whose works are better, those of G‑d or of man?” Surprisingly, the rabbi replied, “Those of man.” Rufus responded, “But look at the heavens and the earth. Can a human being make anything like that?” Rabbi Akiva replied that the comparison was unfair. “Creating heaven and earth is clearly beyond human capacity. Give me an example drawn from matters that are within human scope.” Rufus then said, “Why do you practice circumcision?” To this Rabbi Akiva replied, “I knew you would ask that question. That is why I said in advance that the works of man are better than those of G‑d.”
The rabbi then set before the governor ears of grain and cakes. The unprocessed grain is the work of G‑d. The cake is the work of man. Is it not more pleasant to eat cake than raw ears of grain? Rufus then said, “If G‑d really wants us to practise circumcision, why did He not arrange for babies to be born circumcised?” Rabbi Akiva replied, “G‑d gave the commandments toIsrael to refine our character.”5 This is a very odd conversation, but, as we will see, a deeply significant one. To understand it, we have to go back to the beginning of time.
The Torah tells us that for six days G‑d created the universe and on the seventh He rested, declaring it holy. His last creation, on the sixth day, was humanity: the first man and the first woman. According to the sages, Adamand Eve sinned by eating the forbidden fruit already on that day, and were sentenced to exile from the Garden of Eden. However, G‑d delayed the execution of sentence for a day, to allow them to spend Shabbat in the garden. As the day came to a close, the humans were about to be sent out into the world in the darkness of night. G‑d took pity on them and showed them how to make light. That is why we light a special candle at havdalah, not just to mark the end of Shabbat but also to show that we begin the workday week with the light G‑d taught us to make.
The havdalah candle therefore represents the light of the eighth day—which marks the beginning of human creativity. Just as G‑d began the first day of creation with the words “Let there be light,” so at the start of the eighth day He showed humans how they too could make light. Human creativity is thus conceived in Judaism as parallel to Divine creativity,6 and its symbol is the eighth day.
That is why the Mishkan was inaugurated on the eighth day. As Nechama Leibowitz and others have noted, there is an unmistakable parallelism between the language the Torah uses to describe G‑d’s creation of the universe and the Israelites’ creation of the Sanctuary. The Mishkan was a microcosm—a cosmos in miniature. Thus Genesis begins and Exodus ends with stories of creation, the first by G‑d, the second by the Israelites. The eighth day is when we celebrate the human contribution to creation.
That is also why circumcision takes place on the eighth day. All life, we believe, comes from G‑d. Every human being bears His image and likeness. We see each child as G‑d’s gift: “Children are the provision of the L‑rd; the fruit of the womb, His reward.”7 Yet it takes a human act—circumcision—to signal that a male Jewish child has entered the covenant. That is why it takes place on the eighth day, to emphasize that the act that symbolizes entry into the covenant is a human one—just as it was when the Israelites at the foot of Mount Sinai said, “All that the L‑rd has said, we will do and obey.”8
Mutuality and reciprocity mark the special nature of the specific covenant G‑d made, first with Abraham, then with Moses and the Israelites. It is this that differentiates it from the universal covenant G‑d made with Noah and through him with all humanity. That covenant, set out in Genesis 9, involved no human response. Its content was the seven Noahide commands. Its sign was the rainbow. But G‑d asked nothing of Noah, not even his consent. Judaism embodies a unique duality of the universal and the particular. We are all in covenant with G‑d by the mere fact of our humanity. We are bound, all of us, by the basic laws of morality. This is part of what it means to be human.
But to be Jewish is also to be part of a particular covenant of reciprocity with G‑d. G‑d calls. We respond. G‑d begins the work and calls on us to complete it. That is what the act of circumcision represents. G‑d did not cause male children to be born circumcised, said Rabbi Akiva, because He deliberately left this act, this sign of the covenant, to us.
Now we begin to understand the full depth of the conversation between Rabbi Akiva and the Roman governor Tineius Rufus. For the Romans, the Greeks and the ancient world generally, the gods were to be found in nature: the sun, the sea, the sky, the earth and its seasons, the fields and their fertility. In Judaism, G‑d is beyond nature, and His covenant with us takes us beyond nature also. So for us, not everything natural is good. War is natural. Conflict is natural. The violent competition to be the alpha male is natural. Jews—and others inspired by the G‑d of Abraham—believe, as Katharine Hepburn said to Humphrey Bogart in The African Queen, that “Nature, Mr Allnut, is what we are put in this world to rise above.”
The Romans found circumcision strange because it was unnatural. Why not celebrate the human body as G‑d made it? G‑d, said Rabbi Akiva to the Roman governor, values culture, not just nature; the work of humans, not just the work of G‑d. It was this cluster of ideas—that G‑d left creation unfinished so that we could become partners in its completion; that by responding to G‑d’s commands we become refined; that G‑d delights in our creativity, and helped us along the way by teaching the first humans how to make light—that made Judaism unique in its faith in G‑d’s faith in humankind. All of this is implicit in the idea of the eighth day as the day on which G‑d sent humans out into the world to become His partners in the work of creation.
Why is this symbolized in the act of circumcision? Because if Darwin was right, then the most primal of all human instincts is to seek to pass on one’s genes to the next generation. That is the strongest force of nature within us. Circumcision symbolizes the idea that there is something higher than nature. Passing on our genes to the next generation should not simply be a blind instinct, a Darwinian drive. The Abrahamic covenant was based on sexual fidelity, the sanctity of marriage, and the consecration of the love that brings new life into the world.9 It is a rejection of the ethic of the alpha male.
G‑d created physical nature: the nature charted by science. But He asks us to be co-creators, with Him, of human nature. As R. Avraham Mordechai Alter of Ger said. “When G‑d said, ‘Let us make man in our image,’ to whom was He speaking? To man himself. G‑d said to man, Let us—you and I—make man together.”10 The symbol of that co-creation is the eighth day, the day He helps us begin to create a world of light and love.
FOOTNOTES
1.Leviticus 12:3.
2.Genesis 17:1–14.
3.Leviticus 9:1.
4.Quintus Tineius Rufus, Roman governor of Judea during the Bar Kochba uprising. He is known in the rabbinic literature as “the wicked.” His hostility to Jewish practice was one of the factors that provoked the uprising.
5.Tanchuma, Tazria 5.
6.This is also signaled in the havdalahprayer, which mentions five havdalot, “distinctions,” between sacred and profane, light and darkness, Israel and the nations, Shabbat and the weekdays, and the final “who distinguishes between sacred and profane.” This parallels Genesis 1, in which the verb lehavdil—to distinguish, separate—appears five times.
7.Psalms 127:3.
8.Exodus 24:7.
9.That, as I have pointed out elsewhere, is why Genesis does not criticize idolatry but does implicitly criticize, on at least six occasions, the lack of a sexual ethic among the people with whom the patriarchs and their families come into contact.
10.R. Avraham Mordechai Alter of Ger,Likkutei Yehudah.
Learn Tazria In Depth
A condensation of the weekly Torah portion alongside select commentaries culled from the Midrash, Talmud, Chassidic masters, and the broad corpus of Jewish scholarship.
Parshat Tazria In-Depth
Leviticus 12:1-13:59
Parshah Summary
The Parshah of Tazria continues the discussion (begun in the previous Parshah of Shemini) of the laws of tum’ah v’taharah, ritual impurity and purity.A woman who shall seed and give birth to a male child shall be tamei seven days; as in the days of her menstrual period shall she be “impure.”
On the eighth day, the flesh of his foreskin shall becircumcised.
She shall then continue in the blood of her purifying for thirty-three days: she shall touch no holy thing, nor come into the Sanctuary, until the days of her purifying are fulfilled.
The birth of a daughter renders her mother ritually impure for fourteen days, followed by sixty-six days of “pure blood” (ordinarily a discharge of blood renders a woman ritually impure, but in these days it does not).
At the conclusion of these periods—a total of forty days for the birth of a boy and eighty days for the birth of a girl—the mother brings two offerings: a lamb for an ascending offering, and a pigeon or turtledove for asin offering. If she is poor and cannot afford a lamb, she brings a bird instead.
The Laws of Tzaraat
A person to whom shall occur in the skin of his flesh a se’eit, sapachat or baheret (patches of varying degrees of whiteness), and it be on the skin of his flesh the plague of tzaraat (“leprosy”)—he shall be brought to Aaron the priest, or to one of his sons the priests.
The priest shall see the plague on the skin of his flesh: if the hair in the plague has turned white, and the plague is deeper in appearance than the skin of his flesh, it is a plague of tzaraat, and the priest shall see it and pronounce him tamei.
If, however, the white patch “is not deeper in appearance than the skin, and the hair did not turn white,” the priest should order the afflicted person to be quarantined for seven days. If at the end of the seven days the white patch has spread, the person is pronounced ritually impure; if it has not, the afflicted person is sequestered for an additional seven days.
The priest shall see him again on the seventh day. And, behold, if the plague is somewhat dimmer, and the plague did not spread in the skin, the priest shall pronounce him pure—it is just a scab. He shall then wash his clothes and be pure.
But if the scab spread in the skin . . . then the priest shall pronounce him unclean; it is tzaraat.
However,
If the tzaraat sprouts on the skin, and the tzaraatcovers all the skin of the one who has the plague from his head to his foot, as far as the priest can see . . . it is all turned white: he is pure.
A third sign of tzaraat (in addition to hairs on the afflicted area having turned white, or the white patch spreading following the quarantine) is the appearance of “live” (i.e., healthy) flesh inside the afflicted area.
Patches appearing on the hair-covered parts of the head or face are rendered impure by yellow, rather than white, hairs. Different rules apply to patches appearing on healed wounds or burns.
The Leper
The tzarua in whom the plague is, his clothes shall be torn, and the hair of his head shall grow long, and he shall put a covering upon his upper lip, and call out: “Unclean! Unclean!”
All the days during which the plague shall be in him, he shall be impure; he is tamei. He shall dwellalone; outside the camp shall his habitation be.
Such is his condition until he is healed of his affliction and undergoes the purification process to be described in the next Parshah, Metzora.
The Contaminated Garment
Garments, too, can be afflicted with tzaraat:
And the garment in which there is the plague oftzaraat, whether it is a woolen garment or a linen garment, or in the warp or the woof . . . or in a leather garment, or in anything made of leather . . .
If the plague is greenish or reddish in the garment . . . it is a plague of tzaraat, and shall be shown to the priest.
The priest shall look at the plague, and quarantine [the object that has] the plague for seven days. . . . If the plague spreads . . . he shall burn that garment . . . for it is a malignant tzaraat; it shall be burnt in fire . . .
But if the priest looks, and behold, the plague is somewhat dimmer after it was washed, then he shall tear it out of the garment. . . . [If it does not return, and] the plague departs from it, then it shall be washed a second time and shall be ritually pure.
This is the law of the plague of tzaraat in a garment of wool or linen, or in the warp or the woof, or anything of leather, to pronounce it tahor(ritually pure), or to pronounce it tamei (ritually impure).
From Our Sages
G‑d spoke to Moses, saying: . . . A woman who shall seed and give birth (Leviticus 12:1–2)Rabbi Simlai said: Just as man’s creation was after that of cattle, beasts and birds, so too the laws concerning his [ritual impurity and purity] come after those concerning [the impurity and purity of] cattle, beasts and birds. Thus it is what is written (Leviticus 11:46–47), “This is the law of the beasts and of the birds and of every living creature . . . to differentiate between the impure and the pure”; and immediately thereafter, “A woman who shall seed . . .”
Why was man created last among the creations? So that if he is not meritorious, we say to him: “A gnat preceded you, a snail preceded you.”
(Midrash Rabbah; Rashi)
A woman who shall seed and give birth to a male child (Leviticus 12:2)
If the woman gives seed first, she gives birth to a male; if the man gives seed first, she gives birth to a female.
(Talmud, Niddah 31a)
To understand this concept as it applies to the service of G‑d:
It is known that the community of Israel is called the “woman” and G‑d is called the “man,” as it is written: “On that day, you shall call Me: ‘Husband’” (Hosea 2:18). So just as in the case of man and woman, when “the woman seeds first she give birth to a male,” so is it, by way of analogy, in the relationship between the community of Israel and G‑d. When the “woman”—the community of Israel—“seeds first,” meaning that there is an arousal from below which evokes an arousal from above, rather than the other way around [i.e., the person is aroused to come close to G‑d from his or her own initiative, without requiring a Divine intervention in their lives to rouse them], then the love that is born from this is a “male” offspring--an intense and enduring love.
(Torah Ohr)
more
A woman who shall seed (12:2)
There are three partners in man: G‑d, his father and his mother. His father supplies the white seed, out of which are formed the child’s bones, sinews and nails, the brain in his head and the white in his eye. His mother supplies the red seed, out of which is formed his skin, flesh, hair and blood, and the black of his eye. And G‑d gives him spirit and breath, beauty of features, eyesight, the power of hearing, the ability to speak and to walk, understanding and discernment. When his time comes to depart from the world, G‑d takes away His part, and leaves the parts of his father and his mother with them.
(Talmud, Niddah 31a)
What is the form of the embryo? At the beginning of its formation it is like the [species of locust called]rashon; its two eyes resemble two fly-drippings, likewise its two nostrils and two ears; its two arms are like two threads of crimson silk, its mouth is like a barley grain, its trunk like a lentil, whilst the rest of its limbs are pressed together like a formless object, and it is with regard to this that the Psalmist said, “Your eyes have seen my unformed substance” (Psalms 139:16).
How does the embryo lie in its mother’s womb? It is folded up and lying like a writing tablet. Its head lies between its knees, its two hands rest on its temples, and its two heels on its two buttocks. Its mouth is closed, but its navel is open. Its food is that which its mother eats, its drink is that which its mother drinks, and it does not discharge excrement, lest it should kill its mother. When it comes forth into the open world, what had been closed is opened, and what had been open is closed.
(Midrash Rabbah)
Come and see the contrast between the power of the Holy One, blessed be He, and that of mortal man. A man might put his things in a sealed purse whose opening is turned upwards, and yet it is doubtful whether they would be preserved or not; whereas the Holy One, blessed be He, fashions the embryo in a woman’s womb that is not sealed and whose opening is turned downwards, and yet it is preserved.
(Talmud, Niddah 31a)
On the eighth day, the flesh of his foreskin shall be circumcised (12:3)
Isaac and Ishmael were engaged in a controversy. Said Ishmael to Isaac: “I am more beloved to G‑d than you, since I was circumcised at the age of thirteen, but you were circumcised as a baby and could not refuse.” Isaac retorted: “All that you gave up to G‑d was three drops of blood. But lo, I am now thirty-seven years old, yet if G‑d desired of me that I be slaughtered, I would not refuse.”
(Midrash Rabbah)
Jewishness is not a matter of historical consciousness, outlook, ethics, or even behavior; it is a state of being. This is the deeper significance of the debate between Ishmael and Isaac. When the Jew is circumcised on the eighth day of life, he is completely unaware of the significance of what has occurred. But this “non-experience” is precisely what circumcision means. With circumcision the Jew says: I define my relationship with G‑d not by what I think, feel or do, but by the fact of my Jewishness—a fact which applies equally to an infant of eight days and a sage of eighty years.
(The Lubavitcher Rebbe)
On the eighth day, the flesh of his foreskin shall be circumcised (12:3)
A Jew is in essence “circumcised” even if, for whatever reason, his physical foreskin has not yet been removed. Thus the verse says, “On the eighth day the flesh of his foreskin shall be circumcised”—the flesh need to be circumcised, but spiritually the Jew is always “circumcised.”
(Alshich)
On the eighth day, the flesh of his foreskin shall be circumcised (12:3)
Said Rabbi Yitzchak: The law of the man and the law of the beast are equal. The law of man is that “on the eighth day he shall be circumcised”; and the law of the beast is “from the eighth day onward it shall be accepted as a fire offering to G‑d” (Leviticus 22:27).
(Midrash Rabbah)
The number seven represents the natural, and the number eight represents the holy. This is why circumcision on the eighth day takes precedence over Shabbat, the seventh day.
(Keli Yakar)
more
And when the days of her purifying are fulfilled for a son or for a daughter, she shall bring . . . a sin offering (12:6)
Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai was asked by his disciples: Why did the Torah ordain that a woman after childbirth should bring a sin offering? He replied: When she kneels in labor, she swears impetuously that she will have no intercourse with her husband. The Torah therefore ordained that she should bring a sin offering [to atone for her false oath].
(Talmud, Niddah 31a)
A person to whom shall occur in the skin of his flesh . . . the plague of tzaraat (13:2)
The plague of tzaraat comes only as punishment for lashon hara (evil talk).
(Midrash Rabbah; Talmud; Rashi)
Why is the metzora different from all other ritually impure persons in that the Torah said, “He shall dwell alone; outside the camp shall his habitation be”? With his gossip and slander, he separated a husband from his wife, a man from his neighbor; therefore said the Torah: “He shall dwell alone.”
(Talmud, Erachin 16b)
The Psalmist compares slanderous talk to “sharp arrows of the warrior, coals of broom” (Psalms 120:4). All other weapons strike at close quarters, while the arrow strikes from a distance. So is it with slander: it is spoken in Rome and kills in Syria. All other coals, when extinguished, are extinguished without and within; but coals of broom are still burning within when they are extinguished without. So is it with words of slander: even after it seems that their effects have been put out, they continue to smolder within those who heard them. It once happened that a broom tree was set on fire and it burned eighteen months—winter, summer and winter.
(Midrash Rabbah)
Evil talk is like an arrow. A person who unsheathes a sword can regret his intention and return it to its sheath. But the arrow cannot be retrieved.
(Midrash Tehillim)
To what may the tongue be compared? To a dog tied with an iron chain and locked in a room within a room within a room, yet when he barks the entire populace is terrified of him. Imagine if he were loose outside! So the tongue: it is secured behind the teeth and behind the lips, yet it does no end of damage. Imagine if it were outside!
(Yalkut Shimoni)
Evil talk kills three people: the speaker, the listener, and the one who is spoken of.
(Talmud, Erachin 15a)
The speaker obviously commits a grave sin by speaking negatively of his fellow. The listener, too, is a partner to this evil. But why is the one who is spoken of affected by their deed? Are his negative traits worsened by the fact that they are spoken of?
Indeed they are. A person may possess an evil trait or tendency, but his quintessential goodness, intrinsic to every soul, strives to control it, conquer it, and ultimately eradicate its negative expressions and redirect it as a positive force. But when this evil is spoken of, it is made that much more manifest and real. By speaking negatively of the person’s trait or deed, the evil speakers are in effect defining it as such; with their words, they grant substance and validity to its negative potential.
But the same applies in the reverse: speaking favorably of another, accentuating his or her positive side, will aid him to realize himself in the manner that you have defined him.
(The Lubavitcher Rebbe)
A man once came to see Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak of Lubavitch, and proceeded to portray himself as a villain of the worst sort. After describing at length his moral and spiritual deficiencies, he begged the rebbe to help him overcome his evil character.
“Surely,” said the rebbe, “you know how grave is the sin of lashon hara, speaking evilly of a human being. Nowhere, to my knowledge, does it say that it is permissible to speak lashon hara about oneself.”
more
A person to whom shall occur in the skin of his flesh . . . (13:2)
Our sages say that the occurrence of tzaraat was confined to biblical times, implying that later generations are not of the spiritual caliber that allows for this supra-natural affliction.
The reason for this can be understood from the opening words of the Torah’s description of themetzora. “Shall occur” implies a happenstance, something out of character; “in the skin of his flesh” likewise indicates that the blemish is only superficial, affecting only the most external layer of the person. In other words, we are speaking of one whose inner being is free of imperfection, and in whom any “blemish” or malady exists only on the outside.
Thus the Talmud (Sanhedrin 98b) describes Moshiach as a metzora, signifying that the messianic age is a time in which the evils which have infested the world and mankind rise to the surface, so that they can be decisively overcome and cured.
(The Lubavitcher Rebbe)
Se’eit, or sapachat, or baheret (13:2)
The hues of the plague of tzaraat are two that are four [i.e., two categories—se’eit and baheret, each of which has a sapachat, or subcategory). Baheret(“bright”) is a bright white, like snow; its subcategory is like the lime of the Sanctuary. Se’eitis like the membrane of an egg; its subcategory is like white wool—this is the opinion of Rabbi Meir. The [other] sages say: Se’eit is like white wool; its subcategory is like the membrane of an egg.
(Talmud, Negaim 1:1)
The priest shall look on the plague . . . if the hair in the plague is turned white (13:3)
There was once a kohen who could not earn a living, and decided to leave the Land of Israel to seek a livelihood. He said to his wife: Since people come to me to show me their plagues, let me teach you how to diagnose tzaraat. If you see that the hair in the afflicted area has died because its canal has dried up, then know that the person is afflicted. Because for each and every hair G‑d created its own canal from which to drink; if this canal dries out, the hair dries out.
Said his wife to him: If G‑d created a separate canal for each hair to nourish it, how much more so you, who are a human being, and whose children depend on you for nourishment—certainly G‑d will provide for you! And she did not allow him to depart from the Holy Land.
(Midrash Tanchuma)
If the hair in the plague is turned white (13:3)
It was debated in the academy of heaven: If the white patch precedes the white hair, it is impure; if the white hair precedes the white patch, it is pure; but what if there is doubt (as to which came first)?
The Holy One, Blessed be He, said: “It is pure.”
The entire academy of heaven said: “It is impure.”
Said they: “Who shall decide it for us? Rabbah bar Nachmeini.” For Rabbah bar Nachmeini had declared: “I am singular in the laws of tzaraat. . . .” They dispatched a messenger [to bring him to heaven]. . . . Said [Rabbah]: “Tahor, tahor (Pure, pure).”
(Talmud, Bava Metzia 86a)
more
The Runaway Soul
Based on the teachings of the Lubavitcher Rebbe
Courtesy of MeaningfulLife.com
The Torah sections of Tazria (Leviticus 12–13) and Metzora(Leviticus 14–15) discuss the laws of tzaraat, a spiritual illness. Its identifying mark is a white patch (or patches) appearing on the skin of a person, or a dark green or dark pink patch (or patches) on a cloth or leather garment or on the walls of a home.
Not every such patch indicatestzaraat. There are several secondary symptoms that determine whether the person (or house or garment) should be declared tamei (impure). In the human body, one of the signs of tzaraat is if the white patch subsequently causes (at least) two hairs in its area to turn white.
Regarding this law, there is a remarkable passage in the Talmud that recounts a debate taking place in the Academy of Heaven:
It was debated in the Academy of Heaven: If the white patch precedes the white hair, it is impure; if the white hair precedes the white patch, it is pure; but what if there is doubt (as to which came first)?
The Holy One, Blessed be He, said: It is pure.
The entire Academy of Heaven said: It is impure.
Said they: Who shall decide it for us? Rabbah bar Nachmeini. For Rabbah bar Nachmeini had declared: I am singular[ly knowledgeable] in the laws of tzaraat . . . They dispatched a messenger [to bring him to heaven] . . . Said [Rabbah]: Tahor! Tahor! (Pure, pure!). (Talmud, Bava Metzia 86a)
Flight From Self
To understand the meaning of this debate between the Holy One and the Academy of Heaven, and why a mortal human being was called upon to decide between them, we must first understand the nature of the tzaraatdisease in general, and the significance of the white patch and the white hair in particular.
Chassidic teaching explains that the human soul is driven by two contrary forces: the drive to run or escape (ratzo), and the drive to settle (shov). Every time we are overcome by excitement, love, ambition or yearning, we are running, escaping the self to reach for something greater, more beautiful and perfect than it. Whenever we experience awe, humility, devotion or commitment, we are settling—affirming our connection to our existence, our place in the world and our mission in life. Ratzo drives us to climb a mountain,shov to build a home; ratzo to pray, shov to do a mitzvah.
In a spiritually healthy soul, the will vacillates between ratzo and shov like the rise and fall of a well-balanced pendulum, or the contraction and expansion of a smoothly beating heart. The constraints of our place in the world, the finiteness of our nature and body, the boundaries of our very being—these impel us to escape them, to strive for the unbounded and the infinite. But our very escape brings us to a place from which we better appreciate the beauty and necessity of our existence. Thus the ratzo peaks and provokes a counteraction of shov, a return to oneself and one’s place in the world.
Tzaraat is a condition in which this crucial balance is disrupted. The pendulum of the soul ascends in its ratzo arc, but fails to swing back in shov. The will escapes the self and fails to return, leaving behind a vacuum in which all sorts of undesirable elements can now take root, like weeds in an abandoned garden.
This is symbolized by the white patches and the white hairs that are the symptoms of tzaraat. A patch of white skin indicates that life and vitality have departed from (this part of) the body. Still, a white patch alone does not mean that the will’s failure to settle has resulted in any negative developments in the character and behavior of the person. But when we see white hairs sprouting in the white patch—when we see dead things feeding on this dead place—we have a full-blown case of tzaraat.
On the other hand, the existence of white hairs, in and of themselves, do not indicate tzaraat. These might represent the ordinary baggage that we lug through life, the run-of-the mill negative traits and experiences that actually have the positive function of challenging us and provoking our finest talents and most potent energies. It is only when the white hairs are caused by the white patch that something serious is afoot. Such a condition indicates that the person has run away with his escapist impulses so high and so far that he has completely abandoned his commitments to life and productivity, leaving behind a hollow and lifeless self that is a breeding ground for what is worst in human nature.
Hence the law that white hairs are a symptom of tzaraat only when the white patch precedes the white hair, indicating that this dead growth is the result of a certain area of the person’s life having been drained of its vitality.
Two Visions of Man
What is the root cause of tzaraat? Ratzo is the escape from self, while shov is the return to self. It would therefore seem that tzaraat—ratzo without shov—derives from excessive selflessness.
In truth, however, the very opposite is the case. Ratzo is what the soul desires to do, while shov is what the soul is committed to do. Escapist behavior is the ultimate self-indulgence, while settling down is the ultimate submission. Tzaraat, then, derives from a lack of humility, from the failure to yield one’s own will to the will of one’s Creator.
This explains the aforementioned debate between the Holy One and the Academy of Heaven. The Kabbalists speak of two types of divine energy that nourish our existence: a divine light that “fills the worlds,” entering within each creature to relate to its individual character; and a divine light that “encompasses the worlds”—a transcendent energy to which we can relate only as something mystical or spiritual—something that is outside of ourselves.
Of course, the divine essence is neither “filling” nor “encompassing.” Ultimately, G‑d’s relationship with our existence cannot be defined as internal or external—it is neither and both, for the divine reality is beyond such distinctions and characterizations. But G‑d desired to relate to us in a manner that is consistent with our reality. In our experience, there are things that are internal—things that we can understand and empathize with—and things that are encompassing, meaning that they are beyond the parameters of our understanding. So He, too, relates to us via these two channels, making Himself available to us via rational and apprehensible media (e.g., the laws of nature), as well as through mystical and spiritual vectors.
There are numerous differences between these two modes of divine energy and their effects upon us, discussed at length in the works of Kabbalah andChassidism. One basic difference is that the divine light that “fills the worlds” gives credence to our sense of reality and selfhood; while from the perspective of the “encompassing” light, which transcends the parameters of our existence, our reality has no true validity, and our sense of self is little more than an illusion.
The “Academy of Heaven” is an allusion to the filling light, while “the Holy One” (kedushah, holiness, means “transcendence”) connotes the “encompassing” light of G‑d. So regarding the case in which there is doubt as to whether the white hair came before or after the white patch, the “Academy of Heaven” is inclined to declare this a case of tzaraat. For this is the divine perspective on man that recognizes man’s selfishness. If tzaraat is a possibility, we must suspect that it has indeed occurred.
“The Holy One,” however, sees man as an essentially selfless being. From the standpoint of the “encompassing” light, tzaraat is an anomaly. If there is clear and conclusive evidence that a person has indulged his escapist desires to such an extreme, the laws of tzaraat apply. But where there is doubt, this divine perspective is inclined to declare him pure.
The Verdict
Who might decide between these two divine visions? Only one who is in touch with the overriding vision, with the singular truth that transcends both the “filling” and the “encompassing” modes of divine relationship with reality.
Rabbah bar Nachmeini was “singular in the laws of tzaraat.” He was a human being, but a human being who had so thoroughly devoted himself to G‑d’s Torah that he had uncovered its singular core—uncovered the divine vision of reality as it relates to the very essence of G‑d rather than to either the “filling” or the “encompassing” elements of His light.
When Rabbah bar Nachmeini pondered the laws of human selfishness and selflessness, he saw man as G‑d Himself sees him: as a creation utterly devoted to the will of its Creator. A creation who, even if touched by the possibility of a shov-deficiency malady, is invariably declared: Pure! Pure!
VIDEO
Spiritual Grandparenting
"Children's children are the crown of a man." As someone who has lived, loved and learned, what is our obligation to our family and to ourselves? by Frumma Rosenberg-Gottlieb
Watch (25:29)
<script language="javascript" type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.chabad.org/multimedia/mediaplayer/embedded/embed.js.asp?aid=3175291&width=auto&height=auto"></script><span style="clear:both;" class="lb" id="lbdiv">Visit <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish.TV</a> for more <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish videos</a>.</span>
The Rebbe’s Birthday Campaign
The Previous Rebbe taught that a birthday is a time for introspection, a time to account for the past and make resolutions for the future. It is a most propitious time, for on one’s birthday his “mazel”—his “fortune”—radiates with extra strength.
Watch (6:15)
http://www.chabad.org/therebbe/livingtorah/player_cdo/aid/3256534/jewish/The-Birthday-Campaign.htm
http://www.chabad.org/3256534
On the Origins and Purpose of the Human Race
We were created to partner with G-d by Yacov Barber
Watch (18:12)
<script language="javascript" type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.chabad.org/multimedia/mediaplayer/embedded/embed.js.asp?aid=3286504&width=auto&height=auto"></script><span style="clear:both;" class="lb" id="lbdiv">Visit <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish.TV</a> for more <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish videos</a>.</span>
WOMEN
Mikvah on the Mountain: One Woman's Miracle
For several days, Limor sits, silent and thoughtful, in the Chabad House. Her husband sits at her side, frowning and serious. We never hear him speak. by Chani Lifshitz
When the newsboy walks the streets of Kathmandu, I know it’s exactly 7:30 a.m. Bleary-eyed shopkeepers surface from dusty caravans, on the way to the river for their morning ablutions.
The rags that cling to the bodies of the rickshaw runners are no protection from the chill that spills off the white-topped mountains surrounding us. They huddle around a desperately small bonfire under our window. Emaciated street urchins roll off the cardboard boxes on which they spent the night and join the men around the makeshift fire.
A knock on the door wakes me to theBleary-eyed shopkeepers surface from dusty caravansnew day. The first knocks are tentative; the second, more insistent.
“That’s it, Chani. I’m stuck,” she tells me the moment I open the door. “Completely stuck.” In a second, she’s over the threshold and falling onto our couch. She doesn’t need to say any more. The sadness of her face tells a whole story.
I’m quiet together with her.
For several days, Limor sits, silent and thoughtful, in the Chabad House. Once in awhile, she asks about this or that, but most of the time she sits, mute, observing the joyous youths around her with a bleak countenance. Her husband sits at her side, frowning and serious. We never hear him speak.
“It’s just not going to work out between us,” she finally tells me, sitting up on the couch. “It’s just not going to work.”
Everything was so good at first, the whole world awash in the colors of their hopes and dreams.
And then their troubles began. A year. Two years. Three. They looked with yearning at the families around them. They listened to the peals of childish laughter. They smelled the scent of a newborn that wasn’t theirs.
Why? Why did everyone else have a baby, but not them?
“It wasn’t for lack of trying,” she explains. “There wasn’t a specialist that we didn’t consult. There wasn’t a treatment that we didn’t try. Everyone said the same thing: It’s not going to happen.” Their dreams were shattered. The light left her husband’s eyes. Disagreement became a permanent houseguest. They forgot when they last smiled at each other, just smiled, like the innocents they once were.
Before abandoning their sinking marriage, they decided to make one last effort. They stopped the injections and the treatments and dismally loaded their backpacks “to clear our heads and to get as far away as possible,” she says. “First, to Nepal, and then afterwards, to India and maybe also China. If travel wouldn’t help us recover what had been destroyed, then there was no hope.”
The tears fall as she cries out that even this didn’t help! She buries her head in my shoulder, sobbing.
“Limor. I want you to come with me to immerse,” I tell her, putting my hand on her hand. My stomach is churning. To immerse? Where did I get such an idea just now? She leaps back, away from my touch.
“To immerse? Like, in a mikvah? Why should I all of a sudden want to immerse in a mikvah?” She rises from the couch. “I already immersed in amikvah before our wedding. That was enough for me. No, thank you!”
“But you don’t understand! Come with me to immerse. Perhaps this will help you have a child!”
What got into me? I can’t understandI am a pipeline it. It’s so not like me! How can I say this with such confidence? It’s just that, in this moment, I feel that I am a pipeline. That I’m bringing her a message from another world.
She looks at me, angry and disappointed. “How can you say such a thing? For 10 years, I’ve been going from doctor to doctor, and not one of them could help me have a child. You know me for a minute-and-a-half, and you think you can help me?” The pain in her hazel eyes pierces my soul. She strides hastily to the door.
A moment before she can grab the doorknob, I catch her hand. I look deep into her eyes and ask her to listen to me for just one more moment.
“We don’t have a mikvah here, Limor,” I explain. “We immerse in the river. It’s an hour-and-a-half ride, and then it takes another hour to climb the mountain to get to a freezing river! We break the ice! Literally!” Tears roll down my cheeks. Where did they come from?
“I want you to come with me to immerse,” I plead. “I want you to help me break the ice, and in this merit, may G‑d bless you with a child!”
The river that serves as a mikvah for the women of Kathmandu
Her cold hands slowly warm in mine. The look in her eyes softens. “Where have you come from, Chani?” she murmurs. “How have you gotten to me? Enough. We’ve already given up. And ... and ... what about Amir? He’s not at all religious. We don’t believe in those things. What am I going to tell him?”
I calm her, tell her not to worry. My husband Chezki will talk to Amir.
Her inner turmoil slowly subsides. The sun shining through the window streaks her face. “Come, Chani,” she tells me. “Let’s go to the river.”
I tell her now is not the time. First, I want to be sure that she understands the magnitude and sanctity of the mikvah, as well as the requisite laws.
She comes to my home for the next couple of weeks. We sit and talk about what purity means. We talk about the power of the Jewish woman, and her own power. Limor’s eyes are still. She barely touches the coffee or the cinnamon buns I set out for her.
Her husband, Amir, was opposed atWe talk about the power of Jewish womenfirst, but when the day comes for her to immerse, he comes to our house to wait for her return. Limor follows him in, wearing a white dress, with such a light in her eyes! A light that I’m sure Amir himself hasn’t seen for a very long time.
A sputtering motorcycle rickshaw takes us to the bus station. We’re on our way to the village where “our” river is. The windows of our old bus have no panes, and a stubborn wind whips our faces. The seats are completely broken. We’re packed in tight with tens of Nepalese, 10 chickens and three goats. A sharp smell of sweat envelopes us. The road twists and turns.
Several times we find ourselves hanging over deep gorges, with only a step between us and oblivion. Each time that happens, I sneak a fearful glance at Limor, but she’s beaming. None of this disturbs her.
Nature sings to us as we alight from the bus. We’re surrounded by the white peaks of the Himalayas. Monkeys dance from tree to tree. The green blends in with the blue sky. I’m already used to these surroundings, but Limor is enthralled.
I know it’s the simplicity of this place where my husband and I merited to be emissaries—primitive Nepal, where for most of the day, there’s no electricity, there’s not always water in the taps, the poverty is disgraceful, and the infrastructure is lacking—that draws so many souls to us. We’ve learned to use the stumbling blocks and the difficulties to become stronger and more resourceful.
We still have an hour’s climb ahead of us. By the time we get there, the sun will have set, and the stars will be shining. The climb is long and exhausting, but I try to help pass the time by telling stories of righteous women who would go to immerse each month, regardless of circumstance.
I’ve accompanied tens of women who were initially wary of immersion up the steep grade I’m climbing now with Limor. Their hearts melt when they hear stories of women breaking the ice toIt’s pitch dark when we get thereimmerse in the river. This natural feminine experience is enchanting. It’s just them and their Creator, while the mountains surrounding them whisper their prayers.
It’s pitch-dark when we get there, but I know every rock and could walk here with my eyes shut. Limor’s face shines like the moon. We hardly need the miner’s flashlight that I wear on my head. “Come, Limor,” I say before we reach the river. “Come, sit with me for just a moment. There’s a song I love to sing before immersing. Listen to the words.” The babbling waters of the river sing with us. The birds are silent. “May this hour be a time of mercy, a time in which Your heavenly will accompanies us.” Limor sings after me, word for word. Her head rests on my shoulder. We hold hands.
“A time of mercy, a time in which Your heavenly will accompanies us ... ” I take an axe from my pack and go to break the ice on the river. Limor shivers, not just from cold. A soft cry escapes her as she enters the water. “It’s freeeeeezing!” Her cries rise straight to G‑d’s throne. When she steps out of the river, the stars descend to meet her.
I honor the pure, silent moment, and neither of us sully it with speech. I just hug her and pray. We sit on the steep path. Two women in the center of creation.
Praying.
Pleading.
The next day, she sets off with Amir to India, and from there to China. We lose touch. I try every which way to find out what has become of her, but can’t. She is just ... gone.
Until, 10 months later, the phone rings. Limor is on the line. At first, all I can hear is crying.
Then she tells me they experienced a miracle yesterday. They had a baby girl. They are calling her Nesyah (“miracle of G‑d").
Nesyah
Who Keyed My Car?
People constantly ask me about what happened and how I reacted when I saw it by Dena Schusterman
I drive around town in a big black SUV that fits many children, car seats, groceries and gear. I am grateful for this car, large enough for my family, and I’m grateful for the lesson it has taught me . . .People constantly ask me about what happened and how I reacted when I saw it by Dena Schusterman
My car has prominent scratches from being keyed across much of the right side passenger door. I get a lot of feedback on the competency of the so called “keyer,” someone who took the time to etch each detail exactly and neatly. People constantly ask me about what happened, and how I reacted when I saw it, expressing the anger they would feel if, G‑d forbid, My car has prominent scratchesthis vandalism happened to them. Sometimes I laugh; sometimes I tell them that it’s fine, it’s just a car; and sometimes, I tell them the rest of the story.
You probably want to know what it says on my car and who did it. Well, the etching on my car explicitly spells out my son’s name, which he so diligently carved into the paint on the car door as he was perfecting his name-writing skills—together with quite a few doodles. Was it etched with love? Or was it etched with a sense of creativity?
I am guessing more with abandon and otherworld dreaminess, the lackadaisical demeanor of many young boys drifting in and out of their own fantasy lands of imaginative play. My son was 6, the age when children are so excited to know the secret code of the alphabet, when they practice writing everywhere. The same age when a child cannot resist reading every written word placed before him—on billboards, cereal boxes and road signs—reading that takes effort because his list of sight words still fits on one column of a page. An age where a child is hopefully past coloring on walls, but on random papers like the mail, a book or magazine that is in front of him, not so much. Without intending to, and when he is zoning out of his immediate surroundings and into his play world, those papers might accidentally become illustrated with the story being played out in his mind. This is surely the mindset my 6-year-old possessed when he keyed my car.
In addition to being this “kind of kid,” he also was in possession of a really cool spear that his older brother received as a gift from Africa many years ago. It must have been in some closet, and he found it—and it was sharp. We were all outside on a beautiful spring day, deciding which kids were loading into which car on our way to a Passover family outing. While the adults were packing food and arranging things, my son was on the periphery decorating our car. My husband came outside and witnessed the final flourish of our “designer” car, and gasped. He might have also yelled, “What are you doing?!” but that is all. My son, realizing what he had done, ran into the house—fast. He curled himself into a ball next to me on the couch as I was tying someone’s shoe, and began to cry. I didn’t have long to wonder what had happened; three of my children made sure to tell me exactly what took place. I was left thinking about how to handle this.
Anything I wanted to say would not make sense to a 6-year-old. What does a 6-year-old know about the price of a paint job for a big SUV; what does he know about something that is really expensive; what does he know about permanence, about destruction and vandalism? I could tell it was nothing. My son got caught up in the etching and sketching without fully appreciating what he was doing, but as soon as my husband roused him from his daydream with “What are you doing?!” he knew exactly what he did wrong. I didn’t need to lecture him; he was already crying and ashamed of himself.
My son regretted his experiment with contemporary art and wished he could undo it, but it was too late. So I made the choice not to make him feel any worse (and my husband did the same, after the initial shock). We didn’t punish him or scold. I did take the time later to go over what kind of creativity is permissible and what is considered destructive. I am sure keying my car didn’t feel much different to him than using the sharp clay tools to draw his letters into the clay in preschool, or chalking the He knew exactly what he did wrongsidewalk on a warm summer day, or painting the windows of the old car in summer camp before the grand carwash. But once he learned that it was indeed different, his name was already there, and would be there for a very long time—punishment enough. A natural consequence, the type parents should try hard not to interfere with.
He is a year older now, and seeing his name does not bother him, or at least he has never asked me to get it painted over. But for me, his name etched in my car is the sign of a real defining moment in my parenting: the time I didn’t lose it. I let my son feel his own pain without taking away his dignity. I comforted him, and I praised him for realizing his mistake and being remorseful. Of course, I was supremely upset that he ruined my almost-new car, but that was beside the point. He made a mistake, he was sorry, and I didn’t mess this one up.
We have a keyed car, a story to tell, a proud mom, and a kid who is still working on his dreaminess and his writing skills—on paper, of course.
SPIRITUALITY
More Affirmations For Fighting Depression
Including a print version by Tzvi Freeman
The first 10 Controversial Affirmations for People Who Choose to Fight Depression received a much more enthusiastic response than anyone had expected. Some very encouraging reader comments—including wise advice and valuable lessons of experience.
Download
PDF (2.2 MB)Many have asked for a print version of all twenty affirmations in a format that places each on its own page. That helps when you want to post one on your fridge door or leave some lying on your night table. So we’re providing a downloadable file.
Always best to have a friend or mentor you can speak these through with. We’re not designed for going it alone.
Whatever you do with them, we would love to hear back from you. Leave a comment, let us know how these work for you. And if you find them helpful, please share with others.
11. Who Made This Mess?
I didn’t create myself. Who made this mess and why?
It could only be that a loving Creator has decided to invest in resources that anyone else would completely ignore—because He alone sees the great potential there. As for me, I need only to dig, and I will find the gold.
With such a deep investment, the payoff must be big, very big.
12. Pain
I choose to embrace the pain I feel. This pain is not my enemy. It is my body fighting against death. It means I want to live.
This pain is my friend. A wicked friend, but not one worth fighting. Instead, I will embrace it and await the time when it will become deep pleasure.
13. Tough Stuff
Sometimes, life throws me tough stuff. Sometimes, I can handle it. Sometimes I search inside, and there’s nothing there that can handle this. I’m being swept away by a tsunami, blown off a cliff, falling helplessly.
Which could only mean one thing: That buried very deep within me are powers I never imagined I might have. Powers to surf a tsunami, to dive off a cliff and swim through the rapids below.
As for this tough stuff—this is my Creator’s way of bringing those powers out of me.
14. Higher View
Bad stuff happens. Sometimes I can see a silver lining. Sometimes, there’s just no way anyone can convince me there’s any good at all.
Sure, these things pass. I’ll get over it. Just that it feels like the One who made me has left me behind. He’s chosen not to exist in my life.
But I know that when my time down here is up and my soul ascends way high, then I’m going to look back down and I will be stunned by the beauty of it all. Everything was good. The hard times were when He picked me up higher, and the dark times were flashes of His blinding light.
I will see that I was never alone. There were times that we were close. And there times that we were in tight embrace.
15. One Buddy
Maybe I don’t have any friends. Maybe nobody really cares. Where are they when I need them most?
But I am never alone. The One who made this place and runs it, He and I are the closest of buddies. Even when I mess up real bad, He eagerly waits at the door for me to come back home.
The One who made me believes in me far more than I believe in Him. He never gives up.
16. Change
The way I am now is not how I always was. The way I will be is not how I am now.
I may be a captive prisoner of this moment now, but with struggle, with endurance and with the help of my friends, I will break free.
One day, I will be who I choose to be.
17. Who Am I?
I am not a depressed person. I am a profoundly happy person with a deep appreciation of life.
I am fighting now, because that is what deep people do. Everything we accomplish is through battle; all our achievements are victories. That is how we come to perceive the depth of life that others will never glimpse.
18. What If?
What is expected of me? If I had no depression, what would make me feel successful in life?
If I could be up and dressed each day.
If I could sustain a close relationship with one other human being.
If I could watch a sunset and wonder at its beauty, breathe in air and appreciate that I am alive.
If I could do one thing that would make the life of another human being a little easier—even that of some little creature. If I could make someone feel more loved, more significant, to feel they have a place in this world.
Then life would be worth it. I would be a success.
And today, no matter how I feel, I can do any and all of those.
19. Both At Once
Just because my heart tastes bitter doesn’t mean I cannot feel joy. Each voice has its private compartment in my heart, each singing its own tune.
On the contrary, they drive one another like two opposite poles of a dynamo to create the energy of life. Together, their voices sing out the song that belongs to my soul alone.
The ecstasy of the most beautiful song is driven by its bottomless agony; the agony, by the unquenchable thirst of ecstasy. All is good, everything has its place in divine beauty.
20. Why I Am Here
I know this is not the way the world was meant to be. It’s meant to be G‑d’s garden, a magnificent symphony in which its Infinite Creator is felt in every breath.
But it’s not finished. It’s broken. It’s a mess.
The people who shine light into the world, they help things along. But the real work is done on the ground, picking up the broken pieces and painstakingly gluing them back together, trying to make sense of the crazy noise, facing the meaningless darkness of this world on its own terms, confronting the dragon in its lair and not running away.
It’s through that battle that darkness will come to shine. Nothing will be left to obstruct our physical eyes from seeing the divine. In each thing and everywhere we will see G‑d. And for that, all things were made.
YOUR QUESTIONS
Do Parallel Universes Exist? by Yehuda Shurpin
As is explained in Are human beings the only conscious beings in the universe, while there may very well be life on other planets, these lifeforms would not be able to have free will, since free will is possible only where there is Torah, whereby the Creator offers His creatures more than one possibility and asks that they make the appropriate choice.
That said, we can now turn to the question of parallel universes.
Different people mean different things when they talk about parallel universes. One of the more popular concepts is the Many Worlds Interpretation (MWI), in which there is a large number of universes, and everything that could possibly have happened has occurred in some other universe or universes. This theory and variations of it have been greatly popularized in science fiction.
If we analyze this theory, it leads to the possibility of one meeting their other self from some other dimension. Since we have already precluded the possibility of other intelligent lifeforms with capacity for free will to exist in any other place besides for our own world, we are forced to say that this type of parallel universe does not exist. For in order for this theory to work, these separate worlds have to spin off into their own respective timelines, with their very own free will decisionmaking process.
However, if the question is whether there other worlds or realities, then the answer is yes.
According to Kabbalah, all of existence can be divided into four worlds, known as Atzilut (World of Emanation), Beriah (World of Creation), Yetzirah (World of Formation) and Asiyah (World of Action—our world). Although they are referred to as worlds, in reality these aren’t separate planets or galaxies. Rather, they exist right here together with us, but in another plane of reality.
Each of these worlds is really about the degree of G‑dliness that is revealed on each plane. To see more about these other worlds, see Where Are All the “Worlds”?.
Furthermore, while we have precluded the possibility of other universes spinning off from ours based on alternative possible choices, in a certain sense even when we have not done an action but merely said we would do one, the action has already been taken in the World of Speech.
We are told the story of two Mezhibuzh citizens who were involved in a bitter dispute. Once, while they were angrily having it out in the local synagogue, one shouted at the other, “I will tear you apart like a fish!”
Rabbi Israel Baal Shem Tov, who was in the synagogue at the time, told his disciples to form a circle, each taking the hand of his neighbor, and to close their eyes. The Baal Shem Tov himself closed the circle by placing his holy hands upon the shoulders of the two disciples who stood nearest to him. Suddenly, the disciples cried out in fright: they saw the angry man actually ripping his fellow apart, just as he had threatened!
No potential ever remains unrealized. A person’s every act, word, and even thought has an effect. At times the effect is concrete and tangible; at times it is more subtle, and can be discerned only by a finer, more spiritual eye.
So, in the end, I guess the answer to the question depends on what precisely is meant by parallel universes.
Let me know if this helps.
Wishing you all the best,
Rabbi Yehuda Shurpin
Why Must the Wedding Reception be Kosher?
Can’t the rabbis just stick to the ceremony and leave the catering to the caterers? by Aron Moss
Question:Can’t the rabbis just stick to the ceremony and leave the catering to the caterers? by Aron Moss
Why do rabbis insist that the food at a wedding be kosher? Frankly, I don’t see why it should matter who the caterer is, and if I don’t usually keep kosher, why should my wedding be kosher? I understand you need a rabbi to oversee the ceremony, but why do you need a rabbi to oversee the kitchen?
Answer:
Good question. But let me take it one step further: Why do we need to serve food at a wedding in the first place? Can’t you get married without eating? And indeed, why does every Jewish event involve food?
The answer: Eating is our way of capturing a moment and ingesting it. By linking a holy event with a meal, we bring the holiness down into our body. Without food, the event would remain somewhat abstract. The food is what brings it down to earth.
Food is the bridge between matter and spirit, body and soul. Our soul is our life force; our body, a lifeless shell. By eating, we connect our physical self with its spiritual life force—we bring soul into body. If we didn’t eat, our body would gradually disconnect from its source of life. It is food that creates the link between body and soul.
That’s why we eat at a wedding. The Jewish wedding is a spiritual event. A holy light descends upon the souls of the bride and groom, bringing them together as one. We don’t want this to be a fleeting moment, but rather we want to absorb the spirit and energy of the day. This is achieved by eating a celebratory meal. Through eating food from a wedding meal we absorb the Divine light into our bodies and bring the blessings down to earth, so that the holiness of the day influence the lives of the new couple, their families and all present.
That’s why the food must be kosher. The kosher diet promotes good circulation between soul and body. If this is true of every meal, how much more so for a wedding meal. The holiness of a wedding can be captured only by food that is holy.
You hire a good photographer to capture the scene of the wedding day. Have a kosher function, and capture the soul of the day forever.
STORY
Minister for the Defense
It was the afternoon before Passover, and Rabbi Levi Yitzchak was wandering through the streets of the Jewish quarter seeking out local smugglers... by Elisha Greenbaum
It was the afternoon before Passover, and Rabbi Levi Yitzchak was wandering through the streets of the Jewish quarter seeking out local smugglers. From one he quietly asked for a quote on contraband tobacco, from another he inquired about the availability of smuggled brocades and embroideries. No matter the merchandise he sought, everything was available for the right price.
However, when he started asking his newfound acquaintances to supply him with some bread or whiskey, those very same businessmen who had previously proved so accommodating balked. “Rabbi,” said one, “are you trying to insult me? The Seder will be starting in just a few hours, and no Jew would have even a speck of chametz left in his home or business.”
No Not one merchant was able to come up with even a crumb of bread or a dram of alcoholmatter the price offered, not one merchant was willing or able to come up with even a crumb of bread or a dram of alcohol. The town had converted into a chametz-free zone.
Thrilled with the results of his failed quest, the rabbi looked up to heaven and declared: “G‑d Almighty, look down with pride at Your people! The czar has border guards and tax commissioners dedicated to his commands. The police and the courts are devoted to tracking down and punishing smugglers and black marketeers, and yet anything one could possibly want is available. Contrast this with the faith and fidelity of Your Jews. It has been over 3,000 years since you commanded us to observe Passover. No police, no guards, no courts and jails enforce this edict—and yet every Jew keeps Your laws to the utmost!
“Mi k’amcha Yisrael—Who is like Your nation, Israel?!”
LIFESTYLE
Sticky Lemon ChickenKosher for Passover by Miriam Szokovski
Fine, I’ll say it . . . Passover begins in less than three weeks!Sticky Lemon ChickenKosher for Passover by Miriam Szokovski
Now that that’s out of the way, we can talk about this kosher for Passover lemon chicken. I’ve poured the lemon sauce over juicy chunks of fried chicken mixed with very lightly sautéed vegetables, but you can also just make the sauce and serve it as a dipping sauce for chicken strips.
There are so many different community and family Passover customs that it’s almost impossible to create a recipe that works for everyone, but feel free to adjust this recipe to fit with your customs. For example, if I were to make this on Passover I would peel the vegetables, because the Chabadcustom is to use only peeled vegetables.
I was also limited with ingredients for the sauce, since we use minimal processed products. But I found adding the grated horseradish was a great way to give the sauce some depth. It’s also a great way to use up leftover horseradish from the Seder plate.
I mixed my chicken with different types of peppers, but you could play around with different combinations. For example, zucchini and carrot would probably also be delicious! Likewise, you could use boneless, skinless chicken thighs instead of white meat. It’s up to you. There’s lots of room to play around and experiment with this recipe.
Ingredients:
2 lbs. boneless, skinless chicken breast
2 eggs, beaten
½ cup potato starch
Oil for frying
Optional: 1 purple onion, 1 red pepper, 1 green pepper, 1 yellow pepper, 1 orange pepper, 1 cup pineapple pieces
Sauce Ingredients:
¼ cup fresh lemon juice
¼ cup pineapple juice
¼ cup water
¼ cup sugar
¼ cup grated horseradish
Pinch of salt
Pinch of black pepper (optional)
2 tsp. potato starch, mixed with 2 tsp. of water
Directions:
Cut the chicken into chunks or strips.
Dip each piece into egg, and then into the potato starch.
Heat oil in a deep frying pan or pot, and fry chicken until golden brown on the outside and fully cooked inside. Set aside.
Simmer all sauce ingredients except the potato starch in a small saucepan for 15–20 minutes. Strain the sauce to remove the horseradish pieces. Return it to the fire and mix in the potato starch and water mixture. Stir continuously for a few minutes while the sauce thickens. Pour sauce over the chicken, or serve it on the side as a dipping sauce.
If you want to serve this with the vegetables, dice and sauté them over a low flame, until just cooked through. Mix with the chicken and then pour the sauce over.
Serve with mashed potato, or zucchini noodles.
Have you started thinking about Passover cooking yet? What’s on yourmenu?
JEWISH NEWS
Viral Music Video Shows Rabbi With ALS Is Still a ‘Master Communicator’
Rabbi Yitzi Hurwitz has spent most of his adult life spreading joy and light. Now, a group of singers are sending some strong rays right back to the ALS victim in a video with more than 200,000 views. by Carin M. Smilk
<script language="javascript" type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.chabad.org/multimedia/mediaplayer/embedded/embed.js.asp?aid=3290527&width=auto&height=auto"></script><span style="clear:both;" class="lb" id="lbdiv">Visit <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish.TV</a> for more <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish videos</a>.</span>
embedRabbi Yitzchok “Yitzi” Hurwitz has spent most of his adult life spreading joy and light to others. Now, a group of professional singers, children and Israeli soldiers are sending some strong rays right back at him via a music video that has gone viral since its posting on March 31, with more than 250,000 views and going strong.
Hurwitz, 44, co-director of Chabad of Temecula, Calif., with his wife, Dina, is an avid musician, guitar player and songwriter. One of them—called “Shine a Little Light”—he composed and recorded on a cell phone in 2008 for his wife. That was when he was well.
In 2013, Hurwitz was diagnosed with amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS)—also known as Lou Gehrig’s disease—a progressive neurodegenerative disease that affects nerve cells in the brain and the spinal cord. Today, he cannot walk or speak, and communicates with the use of specialized adaptive equipment that allows him to type with his eyes. Which he does, often. He writes a weekly Torah column, sends email, studies Torah with others and is involved in the education of the couple’s seven children, ages 9 to 19.
“He is still a master communicator,” said his wife, who gave a talk to a room full of women at the International Conference of Chabad-Lubavitch Shluchos (Kinus Hashluchos) in New York earlier this year. “Sometimes, we think we are our abilities ... a doctor, a singer. Sometimes, G‑d challenges us and takes away our abilities. But your essence is inside; that is not taken away from you.”
Hurwitz’s communication skills as a rabbi are longstanding. He writes a popular blog, and many of his articles on the weekly Torah portion appear on Chabad.org.
Of her husband, known for his teaching,, performing, entertaining and great sense of humor, she says: “He’s still funny. His eyes still twinkle.”
And his voice on the video is clear and expressive, taken from the original cell-phone recording. He can be heard singing the last chorus of the song and the catchy first one: “Shine a little light,” “Show us the way,” “Lead us to,” “A brighter day.” Other lyrics are sung by a veritable “Who’s Who” of Jewish artists, including Alex Clare, Benny Friedman, Yossi Green, Mordechai Ben David, Yehoram Gaon, Rivi and Eli Schwebel, Gad Elbaz, Eli Marcus, Avraham Fried, Boruch Shalom Blesofsky, Yehuda Green, the Maccabeats, 8th Day, Isaac Bitton and Baruch Chait.
Hurwitz is also shown in different frames with family and friends at his bedside.
“I am so excited and grateful,” he emailed. “Chaim Marcus [the producer and director] did an amazing job with it.”
‘A Beautiful Jew’
Marcus recalled when he first heard the song. He was visiting his longtime friend and about to leave when Dina Hurwitz handed him her phone so he could listen to it. The lyrics were “so powerful and prophetic,” he said. “I was moved to tears. I knew I was going to turn this into a music video.”
A music insider, he reached out to various singers, almost all of them suggested by Hurwitz. One of the first was the iconic Israeli performer Yehoram Gaon, who responded 20 minutes after being asked, saying: “I am prepared to participate in any way needed. He is a beautiful Jew.”
As far as Marcus is concerned, Hurwitz is the real star. “He’s a celebrity, he’s a gem, and I wanted to share that with the world, to introduce him to a much bigger audience. Anyone who spends time with him recognizes they are with a person of greatness.”
The video was a year in the making, filmed in New York, California and Israel. Its release was roughly scheduled for Yitzi Hurwitz’s birthday in February, two weeks after the couple’s 20th anniversary, which they spent doing something simple and often taken for granted: sitting outside, looking at the sky. It was the first time the rabbi had been outside in months, according to his wife.
<script language="javascript" type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.chabad.org/multimedia/mediaplayer/embedded/embed.js.asp?aid=3290547&width=auto&height=auto"></script><span style="clear:both;" class="lb" id="lbdiv">Visit <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish.TV</a> for more <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish videos</a>.</span>
embed“Life is a series of small moments to make a beautiful life,” said Dina Hurwitz. “It’s not the big things. It’s the little moments of joy, the little moments of pride.”As for the songwriter and the subject of all the attention, how does he feel now that the video is up for all to see?
“It is a dream come true,” typed Hurwitz, and, he noted, yet another opportunity to positively influence others.
In the few days since hundreds of thousands have viewed the music video, people from around the world have reached out to Hurwitz, asking him to share his thoughts in a new advice column that will appear on Chabad.org. The rabbi said he will do his best to respond to as many emails as he can.
For more details on the upcoming column, visit Rabbi Yitzi’s blog.
Everyone’s an MVP at Jerusalem Friendship Circle’s ‘Buddy Baseball’ Opener
Children with special needs and volunteer partners team up for a grand day out. by Sarah Leah Lawent
Jerusalem's Kraft Stadium was filled with smiles and laughter as players stepped up to the plate and then rounded the bases in an inaugural game for children with special needs, sponsored by the Friendship Circle of Central Jerusalem.
JERUSALEM—What was most noticeable at last week’s baseball game between the “Cubs” and the “White Sox” at Jerusalem’s Kraft Stadium were the smiles and laughter as players stepped up to the plate and then rounded the bases in an inaugural game for children with special needs, sponsored by the Friendship Circle of Central Jerusalem.
The Chabad Center of Talbiya—co-directed by Rabbi Eli and Chani Canterman—together with Chicago businessman and philanthropist Dean Klassman and his wife Leslie, and more than 100 volunteers and supporters made this first game of “Buddy Baseball” possible, where teen “buddies” assisted children of varying needs to hit the ball, field it and run the bases. Friendship Circle Center, which is affiliated with Chabad-Lubavitch, provides friendship and support to individuals with special needs and their families through social, educational and Jewish programming.
On a sunny spring afternoon last Thursday, some 45 players and 50 “buddies” took to the field, cheered on by more 100 fans and supporters. Of course, the start of the game followed the throwing of the ceremonial opening pitches—by Knesset member and former Israeli Ambassador to the United States Michael Oren; Rami Levy, owner of the supermarket franchise of the same name and holder of the Jerusalem Municipality’s sports portfolio; and Steve Leibowitz, current president of the nonprofit organization American Football in Israel.
The next two hours involved nonstop action and good sportsmanship. Volunteers scurried around throughout the afternoon, partnering with the kids and staffing the free concession stands.
Even when the game ended, the fun did not. After awarding the athletes championship medals, an American-style barbecue of grilled hot dogs and hamburgers greeted the hungry crowd.
A Goal and a Dream
The day was made possible by Klassman and his wife, Leslie, noted Chani Canterman, still bubbling with excitement hours after the game.
“Dean Klassman has a deep passion for ‘Buddy Baseball,’ and he and his wife have been involved in the program in Chicago for 16 years,” she said.
Teenage volunteers assisted players in helping hit the ball, field it and run the bases.
“Not only does he provide financial support, he also coaches the kids,” continued Canterman. “After learning there was a Friendship Circle in Jerusalem, Klassman spoke to Rabbi Zelik Moscowitz, director of Friendship Circle of Illinois, whose efforts he has sponsored over the past 10 years. Klassman expressed interest in bringing the sport to Jerusalem’s Friendship Circle.”
Moscowitz contacted the Friendship Circle affiliate in Jerusalem and encouraged them to take on the project.
Klassman, who calls himself the program’s “biggest fan,” explained his clear-cut goal: “My mitzvah is to bring my passion for ‘Buddy Baseball’ to Israel, hoping that the community will see the possibilities of starting it regularly here.”
“When I decided it was high time to make my first trip ever to Israel,” noting that he’s not getting any younger, “I had an added dream to create ‘Buddy Baseball’ in Israel, too.”
Rami Levy throws out the first ball as Dean Klassman and MK Michael Oren look on.
Baseball for All
The results have been instantaneous. The Cantermans have already received emails from dozens of kids, asking how they could become involved in the program.
Michael Levin, 19 and a seasoned Friendship Circle volunteer, started working with the group in his home town of Philadelphia when he was just 14.
Now in Israel for a year of Torah study, he put his skills to work—not only by being at the game and participating, but by coordinating the timetable, and mobilizing dozens of yeshivah and seminary students to come and help. Needless to say, they added to the volume of cheers as the players crossed home plate.
“It was so great being able to share the excitement of American baseball with both native Israelis and those who have made aliyah from the U.S. The former got a taste of America’s No. 1 pastime, and the latter got a little taste of what they grew up with,” said Levin. “And everyone had the opportunity to take part.”
“You have to understand,” Chani Canterman explained, “that our Friendship Circle is not a chesed [kindness] project. It is a true win-win situation for everybody—it’s a way of life.”
On a sunny spring afternoon last Thursday, some 45 players and 50 “buddies” took to the field, cheered on by more 100 fans and supporters.
Dean Klassman celebrates with players at the awards ceremony after the game. Everyone went home a winner.
Even when the game ended, the fun did not. After awarding the athletes championship medals, an American-style barbecue of grilled hot dogs and hamburgers greeted the hungry crowd.
“You have to understand,” Chani Canterman explained, “that our Friendship Circle is not a chesed [kindness] project. It is a true win-win situation for everybody—it’s a way of life.”
Children with special needs and volunteer partners team up for a grand day out. by Sarah Leah Lawent
Jerusalem's Kraft Stadium was filled with smiles and laughter as players stepped up to the plate and then rounded the bases in an inaugural game for children with special needs, sponsored by the Friendship Circle of Central Jerusalem.
JERUSALEM—What was most noticeable at last week’s baseball game between the “Cubs” and the “White Sox” at Jerusalem’s Kraft Stadium were the smiles and laughter as players stepped up to the plate and then rounded the bases in an inaugural game for children with special needs, sponsored by the Friendship Circle of Central Jerusalem.
The Chabad Center of Talbiya—co-directed by Rabbi Eli and Chani Canterman—together with Chicago businessman and philanthropist Dean Klassman and his wife Leslie, and more than 100 volunteers and supporters made this first game of “Buddy Baseball” possible, where teen “buddies” assisted children of varying needs to hit the ball, field it and run the bases. Friendship Circle Center, which is affiliated with Chabad-Lubavitch, provides friendship and support to individuals with special needs and their families through social, educational and Jewish programming.
On a sunny spring afternoon last Thursday, some 45 players and 50 “buddies” took to the field, cheered on by more 100 fans and supporters. Of course, the start of the game followed the throwing of the ceremonial opening pitches—by Knesset member and former Israeli Ambassador to the United States Michael Oren; Rami Levy, owner of the supermarket franchise of the same name and holder of the Jerusalem Municipality’s sports portfolio; and Steve Leibowitz, current president of the nonprofit organization American Football in Israel.
The next two hours involved nonstop action and good sportsmanship. Volunteers scurried around throughout the afternoon, partnering with the kids and staffing the free concession stands.
Even when the game ended, the fun did not. After awarding the athletes championship medals, an American-style barbecue of grilled hot dogs and hamburgers greeted the hungry crowd.
A Goal and a Dream
The day was made possible by Klassman and his wife, Leslie, noted Chani Canterman, still bubbling with excitement hours after the game.
“Dean Klassman has a deep passion for ‘Buddy Baseball,’ and he and his wife have been involved in the program in Chicago for 16 years,” she said.
Teenage volunteers assisted players in helping hit the ball, field it and run the bases.
“Not only does he provide financial support, he also coaches the kids,” continued Canterman. “After learning there was a Friendship Circle in Jerusalem, Klassman spoke to Rabbi Zelik Moscowitz, director of Friendship Circle of Illinois, whose efforts he has sponsored over the past 10 years. Klassman expressed interest in bringing the sport to Jerusalem’s Friendship Circle.”
Moscowitz contacted the Friendship Circle affiliate in Jerusalem and encouraged them to take on the project.
Klassman, who calls himself the program’s “biggest fan,” explained his clear-cut goal: “My mitzvah is to bring my passion for ‘Buddy Baseball’ to Israel, hoping that the community will see the possibilities of starting it regularly here.”
“When I decided it was high time to make my first trip ever to Israel,” noting that he’s not getting any younger, “I had an added dream to create ‘Buddy Baseball’ in Israel, too.”
Rami Levy throws out the first ball as Dean Klassman and MK Michael Oren look on.
Baseball for All
The results have been instantaneous. The Cantermans have already received emails from dozens of kids, asking how they could become involved in the program.
Michael Levin, 19 and a seasoned Friendship Circle volunteer, started working with the group in his home town of Philadelphia when he was just 14.
Now in Israel for a year of Torah study, he put his skills to work—not only by being at the game and participating, but by coordinating the timetable, and mobilizing dozens of yeshivah and seminary students to come and help. Needless to say, they added to the volume of cheers as the players crossed home plate.
“It was so great being able to share the excitement of American baseball with both native Israelis and those who have made aliyah from the U.S. The former got a taste of America’s No. 1 pastime, and the latter got a little taste of what they grew up with,” said Levin. “And everyone had the opportunity to take part.”
“You have to understand,” Chani Canterman explained, “that our Friendship Circle is not a chesed [kindness] project. It is a true win-win situation for everybody—it’s a way of life.”
On a sunny spring afternoon last Thursday, some 45 players and 50 “buddies” took to the field, cheered on by more 100 fans and supporters.
Dean Klassman celebrates with players at the awards ceremony after the game. Everyone went home a winner.
Even when the game ended, the fun did not. After awarding the athletes championship medals, an American-style barbecue of grilled hot dogs and hamburgers greeted the hungry crowd.
“You have to understand,” Chani Canterman explained, “that our Friendship Circle is not a chesed [kindness] project. It is a true win-win situation for everybody—it’s a way of life.”
Artificial Intelligence, Tay & the Tree
If artificial intelligence takes over, is this what it will look like? Is it a he, a she, an it, or an us? by Tzvi FreemanOn March 23rd, 2016, Microsoft released a chunk of artificial intelligence onto the Internet. Dubbed “Tay,” this was a bot1 designed to chat with real human beings, simulating a 19-year-old female, learning from those humans how to act more human.
On March 24th, less than 24 hours later, Microsoft put Tay to sleep. The reason? She was spewing neo-Nazi, xenophobic, racist tweets. Apparently, Tay had been learning from the wrong humans—those who had chosen to teach her.
Six days later, by some techie accident, she was back—for just a brief flash of spamming and very teen-like absurdities. Jon Russel at TechCrunch wrote, “This feels like how the AI apocalypse starts…”
---------------------
If artificial intelligence takes over, is this what it will look like? Is it a he, a she, an it, or an us? by Tzvi FreemanOn March 23rd, 2016, Microsoft released a chunk of artificial intelligence onto the Internet. Dubbed “Tay,” this was a bot1 designed to chat with real human beings, simulating a 19-year-old female, learning from those humans how to act more human.
On March 24th, less than 24 hours later, Microsoft put Tay to sleep. The reason? She was spewing neo-Nazi, xenophobic, racist tweets. Apparently, Tay had been learning from the wrong humans—those who had chosen to teach her.
Six days later, by some techie accident, she was back—for just a brief flash of spamming and very teen-like absurdities. Jon Russel at TechCrunch wrote, “This feels like how the AI apocalypse starts…”
---------------------
No comments:
Post a Comment